Husbands And Other Partners
by GilmoreWomen
Summary: The Gilmore family adjusts to Emily’s new role at the Dragonfly. This story follows 'The Inns and Outs of Partnerships.' By OldFashionedGrl, UnaVitaSegreta, and WhreofBabylon. A Lorelai and Emily story that features both Emily & Richard and Lorelai & Luke
1. You Bought A Person?

**_Note_: **_Since these stories have been going on for a while now, it's important to note the timeline. This story begins the last week of October. Emily began working at the Dragonfly approximately the first week of October. _

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_**You Bought a Person?**_

"Hello," smiled an exceedingly-perky blonde woman with a large rolling suitcase in one hand and an overstuffed brown leather bag tucked under her arm. Michel looked up at her slowly. "I'm here for the Montgomery-Bryan wedding," she announced.

"What is your last name?" Michel asked, looking at the computer screen.

"Sullivan," she chirped, still grinning vacantly.

Typing in her name, Michel checked and rechecked the reservation program, a frown appearing on his face. "I don't see your name in our system. Do you have a confirmation number perhaps?"

"No," she answered simply.

"Do you remember who you spoke with when you called to make a reservation?" he asked, knowing it couldn't possibly have been himself. It had to be Lorelai. Or Sookie. Someone else.

"Oh, I didn't call."

"Then how did you make your reservation?" he asked.

"I didn't," she smiled, her attitude beginning to annoy Michel.

"So, you don't have a reservation?"

"Nope," she confirmed.

"Yet you are here now wanting a room…" he opined. The young woman nodded.

As Michel pulled up a list of all reserved rooms, the front door opened and the Inn immediately filled with loud, angry voices.

"I don't care if you want to dance to 'Butterfly Kisses' with Mandy. I am not going to let you ruin what is set to be the reception of the year with your tacky taste in old music," the woman declared, marching into the reception area.

"It isn't tacky, Annette. It is a classic," the man argued, following close behind her, a valise in his hand and large garment bag slung over his shoulder.

"Oh please," she huffed. "It is a stupid, sappy, sentimental piece of musical crap."

"You always get like this when I want something." Dropping the case in his hand to the floor, the man straightened his tie. "We need to check-in," he informed Michel, not bothering to pay attention to the woman already at the desk.

"Bert," the lady scolded, "can't you see that Elaine is checking in right now?"

"Our daughter is getting married. I think that gives us the right to get our room and go upstairs. Besides, this damn dress weighs a hundred pounds." He adjusted the bag that he held over his shoulder.

"Bert," she repeated more sternly.

"It's okay," the young woman relented, stepping to the side. "I can wait." She took another step back, the smile on her face never wavering.

"The room is booked under the name Bert Montgomery," the man informed Michel.

"Ah, yes," Michel smiled politely, "you have a suite."

"I need another room," Mrs. Montgomery interrupted.

"No, we don't," Bert argued. "The one we booked is fine."

"I didn't say _we_ need another room. I said _I_ need another room," she repeated.

"What are you talking about now?" he sighed. "I just want to get to the room."

"And I want a divorce," she spat.

Michel remained in place, watching the implosion before him.

"I swear, Annette. You are the most dramatic woman I've ever met. I want to dance with our daughter on her wedding night and because you don't like the song, you want a divorce?"

"I want a divorce because I can't stand being married to a control freak who is having an affair with his secretary!" she declared, not seeming to notice the stares they were starting to attract.

"You are insane," he huffed.

"You aren't exactly denying the affair, are you?" she countered, her eyebrows raised.

At that moment, Lorelai and Emily both rounded the corner, coming upon the budding argument.

"If I weren't married to a cold bitch, then I might not need to turn to someone else for comfort."

"Comfort?" she laughed. "Yeah, that's what you turned to a twenty-two year old bimbo for, comfort."

"Michel…" Lorelai spoke, scanning her eyes from the sight before her to Michel, who was still glued to the exchange.

"She just told him she wants a divorce," Michel whispered, afraid to interrupt the Montgomerys.

"We have to do something to get them out of the front. People are starting to stare," Emily whispered, leaning closer to Lorelai and Michel.

"Our daughter is getting married in less than a week and yet you choose now to do this," Mr. Montgomery shook his head. "This is just like you."

"If you hadn't been a horny pig, we wouldn't be having this problem at all, would we?" she countered.

"I'll take the suite. Give her whatever other room you have," he spoke to Michel, not looking away from his wife.

Elbowing Michel to get him moving, Lorelai cleared her throat and he reluctantly moved back to the keyboard.

"I'll take the suite," Mrs. Montgomery insisted. "I need extra room for Mandy's gown."

"That's funny, considering I'm the one holding it," Bert laughed.

"That establishes nothing. I'm not leaving you alone in a room with that gown. There's no telling what you'd do with it, considering how little respect you have for marriage."

"I would never do anything to ruin our daughter's wedding," he objected.

"You know what?" Lorelai interrupted, unable to allow this to progress any further while in the main reception area. "We have another suite open. You can both have a suite." She gently pushed Michel aside and typed Mrs. Montgomery's name next to the empty suite. "Rooms 6B and 7A, Michel," Lorelai instructed as Michel moved to retrieve the keys.

Noticing that the two quarreling spouses were still staring each other down, Emily cleared her throat before speaking. "Why don't I take the dress for you both and put it in your daughter's suite? I'm sure that she'll want to keep an eye on it." Neither of them moved an inch. "I know I couldn't stop looking at my gown the whole week before my wedding," she finally added, hoping to persuade them.

"Yes, I'm sure Mandy is going to want to put it on tonight and make sure everything is perfect," Lorelai injected, taking the two keys from Michel. She had no clue if that was typical or not but she had to do something to get these two out of the lobby.

"I suppose you're right," Mr. Montgomery conceded, still glaring at his wife.

Lorelai rounded the front desk with the keys in her hand. "Mom, why don't you take the dress upstairs?" she suggested.

Emily moved towards Mr. Montgomery and took the dress from him. He finally looked away from his wife and smiled at Emily.

"My God, Bert, the woman already said she's married!" Mrs. Montgomery huffed.

"I was being polite, Annette!" he protested.

Quickly retreating from the lobby, Emily disappeared with the dress as Mrs. Montgomery called after her to be careful with it.

"Michel will show you both upstairs. If you'd like to leave your bags here, we'll have someone bring them up right away," Lorelai smiled, handing them each a key.

Watching as Michel led them from the lobby, Lorelai breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excuse me," came a perky voice. "I was waiting to check in."

"Oh!" Lorelai exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. What is your last name?"

"Sullivan." When Lorelai started to type something, she spoke up. "I don't have a reservation."

Lorelai stopped typing. She'd just given the last available room to the Montgomerys. "Give me just one second. Is that all right?" she asked nicely. The young woman nodded happily. Feverishly, she looked through all the possible rooms and double checked departure dates of various guests trying desperately to find a solution. After a few moments, she looked up. "We have one room left but it hasn't been cleaned yet. Would you perhaps like to have lunch in our dining room? We have a wonderful chef. He'll prepare anything you like."

"That's fine," the woman smiled. "Could I leave my bags somewhere?"

"Of course. I'll take them," Lorelai replied, moving from behind the counter to take her suitcase and leather tote. "Thank you for your patience."

"Sure," she chirped.

Lorelai held her forced smile until the woman disappeared and then her shoulders sagged as she dragged the suitcase into the luggage room. Now she had to go find Marie and tell her best maid that she'd given the girl's room to a guest.

* * *

Richard sat in the driver's seat of his silver Mercedes, parked in a short-term lot at Bradley International Airport. Usually, he would have his secretary drop him off yet things hadn't worked out this time and he'd decided to just pay the fee and leave his car at the airport. He had one final call to make before heading inside to check-in for his mid-afternoon flight.

Glancing down at the caller ID on her cell as it began to play 'Walk Like An Egyptian' by the Bangels, Lorelai pressed the green button and slid the phone up to rest between her shoulder and her ear. Typing something on the computer, her eyes scanned the screen as she greeted her father. "Mom isn't here, Dad. She had to go out."

"Actually, Lorelai, I was calling to speak to you," Richard corrected her, leaning back against his plush leather seat.

"Oh, ok," she replied cautiously, her fingers stopping for a few moments as she realized what her father was saying. "So, what's up?"

"You know that your mother's birthday is next month …"

"Uh, yeah, sure, Dad," she spoke, her eyes scanning the screen as she moved her right hand to grasp the mouse and save what she'd been working on before continuing.

Overlooking the fact that Lorelai had no clue about her mother's birthday, Richard continued. "Well, next month is your mother's birthday and I'd like to do something special for her."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd like that," Lorelai spoke, only half-listening to her father.

"Your mother always forbids me from throwing her a party. However, I've decided that for once I am going to go against her wishes."

Lorelai let go of the mouse. "I don't know if that is a good idea, Dad. You know how Mom can get when she isn't happy…"

"I'm very well aware of what happens when your mother isn't happy. I do live with her, after all," he reminded her.

"Touché, Dad. Touché. The fact that you are still alive after all these years is a miracle to me."

Richard chuckled lightly. "I think your mother's displeasure will evaporate rather quickly when she finds out about the surprise I have arranged."

"I love surprises," Lorelai gushed. "What did you get her?"

"It's not _what_ I got but rather _who_ I got for your mother," he smiled, proud of himself.

Lorelai was silent for a moment. "You mean … you bought a person for Mom?"

Rolling his eyes, Richard rubbed his temple with his free hand. He'd forgotten how exasperating it could be to talk to Lorelai. "I did not buy a person, Lorelai. I arranged for your mother's sister to make a surprise visit for Emily's birthday."

Moving her hand to grab the phone, Lorelai switched it to the other ear. "You meant Auntie Hope is coming for a visit?" she asked jubilantly.

"She is coming for the entire week. It is the first time she's been back to the States in twenty years."

"Mom is going to be so surprised," Lorelai exhaled.

"Surprised about what?" Emily asked.

Shocked at the way her mother had suddenly appeared, Lorelai quickly turned to the side, stumbling as she tripped over her feet. "Uh, Mom, hey," she stuttered. "I'm just talking to Marie. She went to that etiquette class thing you suggested. I was just saying that you're going to be so surprised when you see how great she can set the table. She knows where to put the candlesticks and everything now."

Emily eyed her daughter cautiously. She could tell that Lorelai was lying to her but knew that she wasn't going to get anything out of her for now.

"Could I talk to Marie for a second?" she asked. "I need to remind her about an event for tomorrow." Emily held out her hand and motioned for Lorelai to give her the phone.

"She just hung up," Lorelai confirmed, flipping the phone shut and dropping it into her jacket pocket.

"Did she now?" Emily commented, smiling slyly.

"Yeah, I guess you'll have to talk to her later." Lorelai reached for the mouse and quickly went back to the occupancy report she'd been working on, trying to ignore her mother's lingering presence.

"I'll be sure to do that," Emily spoke, watching Lorelai's awkward behavior as she returned to the dining room.

Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, Lorelai quickly dialed her father's number. Ducking down, she cut him off before he could speak. "Sorry, Dad," she whispered.

"I figured your mother must have walked in," Richard noted as Lorelai confirmed his suspicion. "Why don't you stop by the house Friday morning? Your mother has a standing appointment to get her hair done on that day. She's had it for years. We know she'll be out then and we can discuss the details further."

"That sounds great. See you then," she confirmed, snapping the phone shut. As she stood up, she jumped back, surprised to find her mother standing in front of her. "Mom! My God! You scared me half to death!"

"Well, if you hadn't been hiding behind the desk …" Emily spoke flatly.

"I wasn't hiding … I … I dropped my phone," she fibbed, holding up the phone in her hand.

Emily smiled politely. Her daughter was clearly up to something. She'd learned after nearly forty years how to tell when Lorelai had something to hide. Yet she had also learned that she would never get whatever it was directly out of her daughter. She'd have to find another way. "Would you like to go over the schedule for this afternoon or is there something else you've dropped on the ground?"

"Nope," Lorelai confirmed cheerily, "I'm good."

* * *

Lorelai cringed as she walked up the stairs to Sookie's front door. The sounds of high pitched shrieking were getting louder and louder. With a sigh she reached out and rang the bell. The screeching continued. Lorelai's hands flew up to cover her ears and the noise reached ear-piercing levels as soon as the door opened. Sookie turned to her daughter. "Martha... Martha… Martha…" When the child didn't acknowledge her, Sookie bent over and looked at her closely. "Martha." The shrieking stopped briefly. "Mommy needs you to stop screaming now." The result was another high decibel scream. Sookie took a deep breath and looked at her daughter sternly. "Martha, Auntie Lorelai is here to see Mommy. You need to stop screaming."

Martha took a deep breath and shrieked even louder than before. Sookie covered the little girl's mouth with one hand and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Jackson!"

Poking his head out of the kitchen, he hollered back, "Yes!"

Sookie was still shouting over her daughter's muffled shrieks, "I need you to take Martha into her room please. Lorelai's here."

Silently nodding, he walked over and picked Martha up under one arm. As they headed down the hallway, the screaming grew further and further away but remained constant.

Sookie opened the screen door, reached out and removed Lorelai's hands from her ears.

"Is it safe now?" Lorelai asked.

"Yeah, Jackson took her to her room," Sookie answered shaking her head and rubbing her ears in an attempt to get the ringing sensation to stop.

"She may just have a career in horror movies, that one," Lorelai remarked as she walked over to the sofa and sat down. "She could give Jamie Lee Curtis a run for her money. The new scream queen."

"I just keep hoping she'll outgrow it," Sookie sighed flopping down in the overstuffed armchair, still rubbing her ears every so often. "What did you do with Rory at that age?"

Lorelai shrugged. "Rory wasn't really much of a screamer."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "Of course not, she's the perfect kid. She's the perfect kid. You're the perfect mother. It's my kids that are the spawn of Satan."

"I am hardly the perfect mother," Lorelai protested shaking her head.

Sookie countered, "Well, practically perfect."

"I'm not Mary Poppins either, though I did like that flying thing she did with the umbrella. Would save a lot of time in traffic."

The distant shrieking began to crack and sound scratchy. Sookie's eyes lit up. "Think she's losing her voice?"

Lorelai laughed lightly, "How long has she been going this time?"

"Nearly three hours, a new record."

"Well, she's persistent."

"Oh yeah," Sookie replied sarcastically, "like a toothache."

Lorelai chuckled as she reached into her purse, pulling out some papers and handing them to Sookie. "Here are this week's menus. Looks good to me, but what do I know?"

Sookie took the papers and began looking through them. When she reached the last pager, her head shot up. "Okay, this has got to be a joke, right?"

"What?" Lorelai frowned. Everything had looked okay to her and Chef Andy really seemed to be on top of things.

"He's got pigs-in-a-blanket on here for the Montgomery wedding. That _cannot_ be right."

"No, it's right." Lorelai sighed with relief. "Seems they're the groom's favorite. It was the one thing he got to choose in the whole wedding."

Sookie shook her head, giggling. "Poor guy. Those Montgomerys are something, aren't they? Okay, I guess he gets his pigs-in-a-blanket."

"Probably the last thing he'll get a say in for the duration of the marriage," Lorelai quipped and both women laughed harder.

"Thanks for bringing these by the house. Things have been nuts around here today with Martha on her screaming kick and Davey running off to his friend Timmy's house without telling us. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Lorelai smiled wistfully. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Sookie replied with a slight pout then she quickly perked up. "Hey, how are things going with Emily? You're getting along okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we seem to have found a rhythm, I guess, though it still feels like we're on our best behavior or something. You know, not completely relaxed, but it's going better than I ever thought it would."

"Well that's a big step for you two." Sookie put the stack of menus down on the arm of the chair. "So, Andy seems to be doing well?"

"Yeah, he's great. The staff loves him. The guests love the food. His coffee isn't as good as yours, and he doesn't bake oatmeal cookies for me, but he seems to be a good fit."

"Yeah, I think we got a good one this time. Much better than that smarmy Frenchman who tried to put cumin in my pork sauce." Sookie was angry just thinking about it.

Lorelai laughed. "Did you know he wasn't even French? He was French Canadian. Michel got a lot of mileage out of that one."

"I'm sure he did," Sookie answered, her own giggles surfacing again. "You need to come by more often. I miss all the good stuff. What has Michel done lately?"

"Well, did I tell you about the guest he found barefoot in the upstairs hallway? I thought he was going to have apoplexy or something. I didn't know he had such a thing about feet."

Sookie laughed so hard she snorted then both women laughed even harder.

* * *

Emily sat in bed, the covers pulled up to her waist. She was clad in her favorite pair of silk pajamas, the remote in one hand and a book across her lap. Clicking through the channels, she discarded one show after the other. Nothing looked even semi-decent. Finally settling for a documentary airing on the History Channel, she dropped the remote on the bed next to her hip.

As the deep voice of the narrator played in the background, she looked down at her book. Taking a few moments to flip to the correct page, she reached out absently and took the glasses from her nightstand. Sliding them on her nose, she squirmed around for a second before finding a comfortable way to sit.

She didn't know how much time had passed but she didn't look up from her book until she heard the phone ringing. Glancing over at the clock on her nightstand, she smiled. It was precisely nine o'clock. She leaned a bit to the side and grabbed for the phone that was next to the clock. Pressing it to her ear, she pulled the glasses from her face.

"Hello," she smiled, reaching down with her other hand for the TV remote to mute it.

"Hello," came Richard's velvety voice.

"How was your flight?" Emily asked.

"It was fine. We were delayed by an hour due to a maintenance issue. However, it worked out because the rooms were not yet ready when we got there."

"I hope you didn't have to wait too long," Emily commented, leaning back against the pillows and closing her eyes as she listened to the sound of his voice.

"No," Richard assured her. "Floyd and Marjee went to the hotel bar to get some dinner. I had a drink with them and then went upstairs when my room was ready."

"You haven't eaten?" Emily asked, running her hand absently over the pattern of the comforter as it covered her lower body and stopped at her waist.

"Well, it is only six o'clock here, so I will eat in a bit. I may order room service and stay in tonight. I have a lot of paperwork to review for the meeting tomorrow morning."

"I hate that you are in San Francisco and you aren't even going out for the evening," she sighed. "I know how you love to walk around Fisherman's Wharf and see the cable cars turn around at the end of the line."

"Perhaps tomorrow," Richard commented. "You sound tired," he prompted her.

"A bit," she admitted. "I'm actually lying in bed with the TV on and reading for my book club."

"I thought you had decided to stop going to those meetings…"

"I did," Emily sighed, "but then I ran into Teensy McMahon this week and she is hosting the next meeting. They are reading the _Divine Comedy_ and she asked if I would provide some historical background to set the stage for why Dante wrote it. She was so polite and even mentioned that she remembered I'd studied fourteenth century European history at Smith. I couldn't say no after that."

"Your book club is reading the _Inferno_?" Richard asked, an air of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, they are a rather varied group. Last month's selection was Jonathan Swift's_ A Modest Proposal_."

"You are not serious," Richard insisted.

"The month before that was Sophocles' _Oedipus the King_," she grinned.

"Now I know you are messing with me," Richard teased. "The ladies of the DAR would never read such scandalous works of literature."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Emily replied. "We've been known to be a bit risqué. You surely remember the time Greta Von Arend tried to organize a conga line."

"The Conga isn't that risqué," Richard informed her dryly.

"It is when three women in it aren't wearing blouses," Emily laughed.

"What?" Richard's interest was suddenly sparked.

"I guess you weren't there that night," Emily commented. "You missed quite a show," she giggled.

"I think perhaps I should attend more of these functions," Richard suggested. "This Greta … is she still a member?"

"Very funny," Emily huffed, stifling a yawn.

Hearing her yawn and the fatigue in her voice, Richard suggested, "Why don't you go to sleep? I'll call you tomorrow after my meeting."

"All right," Emily agreed.

"I'm sorry that I'm not at home with you," Richard sighed.

"Me too," Emily agreed. "I've been home alone all night."

"Well, I'll be back in a few days. You won't be alone then," he smirked, his voice low and sensual.

"I'm looking forward to it," she grinned. After exchanging the perfunctory 'I love you's and 'goodnight's, Emily hung up the phone. She then shut off the bedside lamp and reached for the remote. Clicking off the TV, she put her book on the nightstand and settled back against the pillows. It took her no more than a few minutes to drift off to sleep.


	2. Facing Off

_Before moving on to the chapter, we feel that it is necessary to address a particular issue that seems to keep coming up. This is not an Emily/Richard story nor is it a Lorelai/Luke story. We are big fans of both couples (ok, one of us isn't a 'big' L/L fan but the other's JJ-ness makes up for it). Luke and Richard will remain prominent characters in the story but our focus and the theme of these stories has been and always will be Lorelai/Emily. In order to fully explore that dynamic, it necessitates delving into the L/L and E/R relationships. However, we just want to clarify that this is not solely an E/R story or a L/L story. It is an Emily/Lorelai story._

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_**Facing Off**_

"What time is it?" Lorelai asked, her voice groggy and scratchy as she rolled over in bed, burying her head beneath her pillow.

"It's only five," Luke whispered, "go back to sleep." Sliding from bed, he pulled on his boxer shorts and ran his hands over his face.

"Why do you get up so early?" Lorelai mumbled, pulling her arms over her head to hold the pillow in place.

"Go back to sleep," he repeated, moving to the bathroom.

Snatching the pillow from where it was held over her head, Lorelai plopped it down on Luke's now-empty side of the bed. "Ugh, great, I'm awake," she huffed. "I hate mornings," she growled, pushing the covers away and sliding her legs off the bed. Shuffling into the bathroom, she immediately winced at the bright light and absently reached out with her hand to turn it off.

"Hey!" Luke called out, his voice muffled. Lorelai squinted her watery eyes and looked over at Luke who was standing in front of the sink, bent over slightly as the water ran. "I'm trying to brush my teeth."

"Do it in the dark," Lorelai mumbled, walking over to the shower.

"You are the one who chose to get up," Luke argued, sliding over to turn the lights back on.

"Ack!" Lorelai grumbled, immediately moving her hands to cover her eyes.

Luke glanced over, finally getting a good look at her. Her pink pajama bottoms were wrinkled, as was her white long-sleeve top that had the word 'Juicy' written across the front in hot pink letters. Her hair was wild, to say the least, tangled and sticking out in every direction.

"I hate mornings," she grumbled.

"Then go back to bed," Luke insisted, turning on the water in the sink.

"I can't let my mother be the first one at work again," she mumbled, opening the shower door and turning on the water.

"Why not?" Luke shrugged, rinsing out the sink before shutting off the water.

"She's been there first every day this week. How does that make me look?" Lorelai questioned.

"Like someone who sleeps," Luke replied.

"I'm supposed to be the boss," Lorelai argued.

"Well, coming in when you want is a perk of the job, isn't it?" he countered.

Lorelai mumbled something incomprehensible, pulling her top over her head as Luke turned back to put his toothpaste in the side drawer. Discarding the rest of her clothes, Lorelai opened the shower door and stepped inside, emitting a loud "aaaahh," as the hot water flowed over her body.

Luke looked over at the clock on the wall. It was just a few minutes past five o'clock. The diner didn't open until six. It took about twenty minutes to get everything set up to open. And if Lorelai was awake, he could have her drive him by the diner instead of taking his usual walk. That meant he had a good fifteen minutes to spare. Dropping his toothbrush into the cup next to the sink, he quickly cleaned up the small mess he'd created, wiping down the counter with a hand towel.

Moving the few feet across to the shower, he dropped his boxers to the floor and pulled the door open. Seeing the soapy liquid Lorelai was rubbing into her hair, he grinned as she looked over at him, her eyes full of surprise. "Need some help with that?"

Lorelai grinned as Luke stepped behind her, his hands moving immediately to her hair. "I'm suddenly starting to like waking up early."

* * *

Lorelai walked into the diner, her purse over her arm. "Your order is almost ready," Luke called out to her, two plates in his hands as he rounded the counter.

"Thanks," Lorelai smiled.

"Lorelai!" Babette called out upon seeing her walking toward the counter. "Lorelai," she called again, motioning for her to come to the table.

"Hey guys," Lorelai greeted, walking up to the table in corner where Babette and Patty sat.

"Can you believe what happened last night?" Babette gasped.

"What do you mean?" Lorelai asked, confused.

"At the town meeting…" she added.

Lorelai shook her head and Patty piped up, "Oh yeah, she wasn't there."

"You weren't there?" Babette asked in shock. Lorelai shook her head and Babette looked to Patty for further confirmation. "She wasn't there? She missed it?"

"She did," Patty confirmed. "She missed the meeting."

"I can't believe she missed it," Babette stressed. "I mean… I was just sittin' there in shock. Morey and I both were. And she missed it?!"

"I know," Patty agreed. "I couldn't move for a while, sitting there watching it happen right before our eyes. It was like a train wreck."

"What was like a train wreck?" Lorelai asked.

"I can't believe she missed it," Babette reiterated, looking at Patty. "I kept thinkin' somebody was gonna do somethin' to stop 'em."

"Well, Taylor was no help at all," Patty added.

"No help for what?" Lorelai asked, looking between the two of them.

"Eh, he was afraid of 'em," Babette nodded.

"Afraid of who?" she asked again, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood in front of the table.

"I finally had to get up and snatch the gavel from his hand," Patty remembered.

"Yeah, but he didn't even seem to notice," Babette added with a shrug.

"No one did," Patty confirmed.

"Yeah, not until you got between 'em. Even then I thought West Side Tilly was about to hit ya."

"Why was she about to hit you?" Lorelai asked, looking at Patty who was still looking at Babette.

"She'd never dare," Patty insisted, lifting her nose a bit higher.

"Hey!" Lorelai injected, her voice a bit louder. "What happened last night?" she asked when they looked at her.

"Take a seat, suggah, this could take a while," Babette cooed as Lorelai slid into the empty chair next to Patty and dropped her purse to the floor.

"I can't believe you missed it," Patty added.

"Yeah, me too," Babette agreed.

Lorelai groaned, leaning back in her seat. "Missed what?"

"East Side Tilly and West Side Tilly had a face-off," Babette finally informed her.

"A face-off?" Lorelai breathed.

"Yeah. We were debating whether or not to use some of the money from property tax revenues to help Stars Hollow High offset some of the costs of the repairs they had to make after that big ice storm destroyed part of the roof," Patty explained.

"So, they disagreed about that?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Babette stated, "they were both fine with it. Actually, everyone was. The resolution passed."

"So, what caused the face-off?" Lorelai breathed, trying to keep her frustration in check.

"Well, after that vote we moved on to the issue of the Hay Bale Maze we did last year," Patty explained.

"And that's when they got into a fight?" she guessed.

"No," Patty chuckled. "Maryann Ministrom made a motion that we should do it in the fall instead of the spring."

"That sounds reasonable," Lorelai shrugged.

"Well, everyone but East Side Tilly agreed," Babette chimed in.

"Why didn't she agree?" Lorelai slid her chair forward and leaned her elbows on the table.

"She's allergic to hay. Claims she had to leave town that weekend. She thinks we should do a corn maze this year," Patty continued.

"Well, I suppose that is a compromise," Lorelai noted.

"Yeah, but West Side Tilly is allergic to corn," Patty stated.

"That's when all hell broke loose," Babette grinned. "West Side Tilly said East Side Tilly was being selfish. She said everyone loved the maze last year and we shouldn't change it. East Side Tilly then got up and said that she had as much a right to participate in events as everyone else and we shouldn't discriminate among people who have allergies," Babette rambled on.

"So, they fought over corn and hay?" Lorelai asked, needing confirmation that this was indeed about what she thought it was about.

"This went on for nearly ten minutes," Patty informed her.

"Patty had to step between 'em and break 'em up," Babette added. "West Side Tilly almost hit Patty."

"They fought over corn and hay?" Lorelai repeated.

"Yes," Patty confirmed. "They were both given a three month suspension from town meetings."

"Wow, that's harsh," Lorelai repeated. "Who suggested that?"

"I did," Luke spoke, placing a brown paper bag on the table next to Lorelai.

"Does this mean we have to now watch our backs in case the Tillies team up and want revenge on you? Are we going to have to join the Witness Protection Program and move to Alaska?" she grinned.

"The Witness Protection Program is for people who witness crimes," Luke informed her.

"Ah," Lorelai frowned. "So, we're not moving to Alaska?"

"No," Luke answered shortly, handing her the ticket for the food.

"Don't I get a discount for being engaged to the owner?" she smiled sweetly, looking up at Luke. "Or, I'm sure we could work out some other pay agreement…if ya know what I mean," she winked.

Luke eyed Patty and Babette who were both watching them closely, large smiles on their faces. "I'll take care of your lunch, but I'm not paying for Michel's. He still owes me for the four Cesar salads he ordered last month."

"Four?" Lorelai asked.

"Yeah, he wanted one for himself and three for the dog."

"I don't know why I ask," Lorelai mumbled, opening her purse and fishing around for her wallet. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, she handed it to Luke. "Keep the change," she smiled.

"How generous of you," Luke deadpanned, bending down slightly to kiss the top of her head before walking away.

"I should get back to work," Lorelai stated, reaching for the bag as she stood up. "Thanks for keeping me up to date on all the gossip, ladies."

"That's what we're here for, babe" Babette grinned.

* * *

"Ok, we just picked up the special tablecloths that the Montgomerys ordered. I think that's it," Lorelai smiled, sitting back against the plush leather seat of Emily's Jag.

"We have one more stop," Emily piped up, keeping her eyes on the road as she made a right turn.

"There's nothing left on the list," Lorelai confirmed, checking over it once again to see if she'd somehow missed something.

"I didn't write it down," Emily informed her, looking to the side and checking her mirrors before she changed lanes.

"Where do we have to go?" she asked.

"A bridal shop on Fifth and Pine," Emily replied.

"A bridal shop?" Lorelai questioned, turning to look at her mother.

"They are the only place that had the particular linen hand towels that Mandy's mother requested."

"She requested custom hand towels?" Emily nodded. "I guess if they are paying us as much money as they are, they can have whatever they want."

"Exactly," Emily smiled, steering the car into a spot in front of the store and shifting the gear into park. "Are you coming in?" she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt and looking over at Lorelai who remained in her seat.

"Why? You just have to pick them up," she argued.

"It might take a few minutes," Emily countered.

"So?" Lorelai shrugged.

"Just come inside," she insisted.

"Mom, I'm fine out here in the car," Lorelai argued, not wanting to go inside such a stuffy and pretentious place.

"I am not leaving you sitting in the car, Lorelai. It wouldn't look right."

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car, following her mother inside.

"Mrs. Gilmore!" exclaimed the buoyant redhead that emerged as soon as they walked in the door.

"Suzanne, how nice to see you," Emily smiled politely.

"You must be here for the hand towels. They're in the back."

"Wonderful," Emily declared, following the woman to the back of the store and leaving Lorelai standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

After a few moments, another woman appeared, smiling at Lorelai. "Please feel free to look around. We have dozens of catalogues in the back should you not find a gown out here that you like."

"Oh … no … I'm not … I'm just waiting for my mother," she informed the woman.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman apologized. "I noticed the ring on your hand and assumed you were here to look for a gown."

"No … I'm not … well, I am engaged but … well, I don't have a wedding gown yet either … but …thanks, I'll look around," Lorelai finally caved, deciding to just look around instead of trying to explain her situation to the woman. There was no way in hell she could afford any gown in this store. Wandering through the boutique, she looked at all the styles, none of them inspiring her or even sparking an interest. It was the same as all the other bridal shops she had been to before. She just couldn't find the right dress. She had the perfect dress before. Nothing was going to compare to that now.

"Excuse me," came the woman's voice again. "I know you said that you aren't looking but I just thought that …" Turning around, Lorelai found the woman holding a padded hanger with a silk and chiffon-covered gown suspended from it. "I just … well, we've had this gown for weeks now and you're the first person who has walked in that … well you immediately made me think of this gown. I … I know you said you weren't looking, but I just thought you might want to see it."

Lorelai remained silent as she gazed at the gown. It was … It was just … She swallowed and finally looked up at the woman. "I…" She couldn't seem to finish her thought.

"Lorelai," Emily called as she emerged from the back of the store. The sound of her mother's voice finally pulled Lorelai's attention away from the layers of silk, and the delicate stitching. Turning, she saw her mother, an attendant standing next to her holding a large brown box in her hands.

"Are you ready, Mom?" Lorelai asked, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible.

"You're clearly in the middle of something…"

"No … no. I'm fine," she insisted.

"You aren't fine," Emily disagreed, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You've been staring mesmerized at that gown since I walked out here."

"It's just a nice gown, Mom, that's all," she stated nonchalantly, looking at the gown out of the corner of her eye.

"Try it on," Emily suggested.

"No, Mom." She shook her head. "No. I'll find a wedding dress on my own, all right? Let's just go."

"What will it hurt to just try it on?" Emily prodded.

"We're going to be late getting back to the Inn," Lorelai said, trying another tactic.

"We have more than enough time," Emily countered, "besides, Sookie is there today. Just try on the dress. It won't take more than ten minutes."

Sighing in defeat, Lorelai took the gown from the sales woman, following her to the rear of the store as Emily kept close behind.

Once inside the dressing room, she tossed her jeans aside. Reaching for the gown, she allowed herself to savor in the soft silkiness of the fabric. It felt as beautiful as it looked. Yet she didn't want to put it on. Somehow she knew it would be perfect. Perfect in every way but one: exorbitant the price tag.

"What is taking so long, Lorelai?" Emily's voice filled the room and Lorelai stepped into the dress just as her mother entered the confined changing area.

"Mom!" she protested, whirling around clutching the dress at waist level.

"Oh, come on, Lorelai. I breastfed you. Seeing you in a bra at nearly forty years old really isn't that big of a deal. Turn around," she instructed. "Turn around," she repeated when Lorelai didn't obey.

Reaching out to pull the bodice up, Lorelai slid her arms into the chiffon straps, wondering if the pearls adorning them were actually real. Emily stepped behind her, working on the buttons that lined the back of the dress and hid the zipper that ran partway up the back.

When the gown was finally in place, both women remained still, looking into the mirror. Emily stood behind her daughter, examining the reflection before her.

"Take it off," Lorelai suddenly demanded, her hands reaching behind her back in a blind search to find the zipper.

"Lorelai … what …" Emily asked, puzzled by her daughter's behavior.

"Get it off me," she demanded once again, more insistent.

"Stop it!" Emily hissed, pushing Lorelai's hands away as she undid the zipper and buttons quickly. "What is wrong with you?" she asked as Lorelai stepped away from her.

"You are what is wrong with me!" Lorelai shot back, becoming almost frantic. "I didn't want to try on the dress."

"Why not?" Emily demanded. "You clearly love it!"

"That's exactly it, Mom! It is the perfect gown." Lorelai struggled to keep the threatening tears of anger and frustration out of her voice.

"Then what is so wrong with trying it on?" Emily asked, confused by her daughter's outburst.

"What is wrong with it? Mom, hello! We're at one of the most expensive bridal shops in town. This gown probably costs more than the entire wedding!"

"So what?" Emily shrugged, still not seeing the problem.

"So what? Are you listening to me, Mother? I'm not you. I can't afford this dress. And I knew if I tried it on, that it would be perfect. And now every dress that I try on is going to be compared to this and I'm never going to find a dress. I might as well just wear that one I bought the first time," she sighed, plopping down on a nearby chair, emotionally drained and oblivious to the fact that she remained clad in only a bra and underwear.

Emily watched her daughter as she flopped into the chair, clearly distraught. "Let me buy the gown," she spoke softly.

"No," Lorelai responded quickly, holding the gown in her hands.

"Lorelai-"

"I said no, Mom," she responded more forcefully.

"Why won't you let me be a part of anything without a fight?" Emily finally asked. Lorelai looked up at her. "I know that you and Luke aren't like your father and I. You don't need a fancy wedding catered by the most expensive chef in Hartford. But don't you want this day to be perfect? You've been in love with this man for… God knows how long. … I saw the way the two of you looked at each other that time at Rory's sixteenth birthday party. You've never once looked at anyone else like that. Your father and I have resisted this relationship for years but … I just want you to have one perfect day, Lorelai. If this is the gown you want … let me buy it for you," It was more a request than a statement, yet another in the long line of attempts to feel like she was an important part of her daughter's life.

"I just don't want this to turn into some fancy, over-the-top wedding…"

"The gown and nothing else," Emily offered.

"You promise?" she prodded, beginning to come around to the idea. Emily nodded. "No house? No month-long honeymoon in Taipei? No swans floating in a lake while a twenty-piece orchestra plays a piece that was composed specially for Luke and I?"

Emily laughed before responding. "I promise."

"Ok," she finally agreed.

"Good," Emily smiled. "Put the gown back on and I'll have the seamstress come and see where it needs to be altered."

Lorelai stood up and walked back to where her mother had hung the dress as Emily stepped away. "Hey Mom…"

"Yes, Lorelai?" Emily turned around.

"Thanks."

Smiling, she nodded silently before slipping from the room to go in search of the shop owner.

* * *

After parking her car in the garage, Emily walked wearily into the house through the back entrance, not even bothering turn on the lights. She briefly turned toward the refrigerator, remembering that she hadn't eaten since lunch but decided that fixing something now was too much trouble, plus it wouldn't be good to eat right before going to bed. As she made her way toward the front of the house, she dropped her bag and keys on the round table in the music room and shrugged out of her jacket. Too tired to hang it up, she decided to just leave it there until morning.

"Emily." Richard's voice was the low, stern tone he used when he'd been brooding over something. Anger on a slow burn.

Momentarily startled to hear her husband call out to her, Emily slowly turned around. Richard was standing just past the doorway to his study, the only source of light coming from behind him. He stood illuminated in silhouette, a glass of something, probably scotch, in his hand.

"So nice of you to make sure the maid was here to welcome me home this evening," he spoke dryly.

Emily's rubbed her temples trying to ease the ache behind her eyes that was quickly turning into a major headache. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, but it really couldn't be helped." She dropped her hands back to her sides and squared her shoulders. "I've had a very long day and I'm exhausted. Do you think we could have this conversation in the morning?"

"Emily, I've been gone for three days," he stated. Clearly that was reason enough to continue this now.

"I'm well aware of the fact that you weren't here, Richard. If you recall, I packed your bags before you left," Emily countered.

"We were supposed to have dinner tonight and then speak to Rory," he reminded her.

"Oh, no, I forgot all about Rory's phone call." Emily was clearly disappointed. "There was a huge explosion tonight between the Montgomerys over the flowers for their daughter's wedding on Saturday and all of a sudden it was after ten o'clock. How is she?"

"She's fine, though I do wish you felt the same disappointment about missing our dinner."

Emily slowly walked over to her husband and looked into his eyes. "I am disappointed about missing our dinner and I'm very glad you're home."

Richard took hold of her upper arm with one hand and bent down, planting a soft kiss on her lips. Now that she had moved closer he could see the lines around her eyes, lines that only appeared when she was on the verge of exhaustion. "Go on up to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes."

She continued to hold his gaze a few seconds more seeing his love reflected there and hoping that even though she was worn out he could read the same in hers.

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and then watched as she walked up the stairs.

* * *

_Thanks to DieHardJavaJunkie14, LorLukeAlways, Myrandah, Aleta II Anon, lilienprinzessin, Ann Y. Mous, and RedheadLVR for the reviews. We appreciate that you all take the time to let us know what you think about the story!_


	3. Forty Years of Waiting

**Chapter 3**

_**Forty Years of Waiting**_

With the study phone on speaker, Richard listened as the line rang and was then answered by the familiar voice of his granddaughter.

"Hello?"

Picking up the receiver he greeted her warmly. "Hello, Rory," he spoke, a fond smile spreading across his face.

"Hi, Grandpa!"

"I'm not catching you at a bad time, am I?" he asked with concern, leaning onto the edge of his desk.

"Nope, I can talk," she assured him cheerily.

"Good, good. How's the campaign trail?" he questioned.

"Oh you know, campaigny…" Rory smiled at the sound of her grandfather's chuckle.

Richard leaned back in the chair. "That last piece you wrote, the op-ed on the Senator's wife was very well done. Looking through the eyes of women she's met in those round tables was a positively brilliant."

"I don't know about brilliant, but thank you," she replied modestly.

"Well, I just call them as I see them. I read your man is going to be in New York next week."

Rory sighed. "Only for ten hours. It's going to be hard to be so close and yet so far. I haven't been home in ages."

"Well, perhaps we can do something about that," Richard said leaning forward again. "You know your Grandmother's birthday is coming up next month."

"Yes. I've been trying to figure out what to get her, but so far I haven't had any good ideas," Rory admitted.

"Well, my plan may take care of that as well. I thought it would be fun to turn the tables on her. Throw her a party for a change. What do you think?"

"Oh, she'll love it," she said excitedly. "Is it going to be a surprise?"

"Yes, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to her."

"My lips are sealed," Rory promised.

"Do you think you might be able to get that weekend off? I know your Grandmother would love to see you. I'd be happy to pay for your ticket," Richard offered.

"I'd like to. Let me see what I can work out." Rory looked up as someone waved to her. "Oh, we're getting ready to finish up and head to the next location. I'll call you back in a few days."

"Of course, and Rory, perhaps it's best if you call me at the office," he suggested.

"You got it. Talk to you soon. Love you, Grandpa."

"I love you too, Rory. Goodbye." Richard hung up the phone with a grin and rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.

* * *

"Good morning," Emily smiled cheerily as she breezed into the lobby.

"Ah, Emily, how nice to see you today," Michel greeted her, a rare smile appearing upon his face. She disappeared down the hallway to store her purse in Lorelai's office and reappeared a few minutes later. "I saw something that made me think about you last night," Michel spoke as he pulled up the daily check-in list on the computer.

"Oh?" she asked, stopping next to him, flipping through a few papers that she held in her hands.

"The London Philharmonic is coming to Hartford to do a special performance with the Hartford Symphony."

"Really?" she responded, her interest piqued. "I hadn't heard about that."

"It hasn't been announced yet but I go to the same gym as the timpani player-" Michel began.

"Rudolph Van Dorn?" Emily interrupted.

Michel nodded, delighted by the fact that someone actually knew whom he was referring to. "He says that the deal is supposed to be announced this week."

"It would be wonderful to see the London Philharmonic and not have to travel all the way to Europe," Emily gushed. "I just hope that Richard isn't out of town when they are here. I hate going to the Symphony alone."

"Well, you know … I'd always be willing to go with you." As Michel spoke, Lorelai approached from behind them, stopping in her tracks. "I do so adore classical music. And," he added, pausing for dramatic effect, "I hear that it is likely they will play a medley of different pieces instead of works by just one composer."

Emily smiled, "Richard does always complain when I want to attend the Symphony on a week night. Perhaps he wouldn't mind if I left him at home this time..."

"I like the way you think," Michel grinned.

Lorelai's stomach turned at the thought of her mother and Michel going out together and … bonding. It wasn't an appealing idea. They both knew too much about her to make her feel comfortable with the thought of them spending time together outside of work.

"Lorelai," Emily exclaimed, seeing her daughter standing behind them. "I was just looking for you."

"Were you?" she questioned, looking between the two of them.

As a guest approached the front desk, Emily and Lorelai left Michel to attend to the new arrival and proceeded down the hall. "Apparently Sylvia has been telling everyone she knows about how wonderful the anniversary party was and about this 'quaint little inn' in Stars Hollow."

"Oh really?" Lorelai smiled, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, but that isn't the best part," Emily explained.

"What is better than free publicity among people who have more money than God?" she teased.

"Well, Sylvia's son Isaac …. You remember him, right? The one who gave that long speech about how his parents had instilled in him the values of fidelity and loyalty…"

Lorelai thought for a moment before the image of him came to mind. "Oh yeah, the guy who was there with his second wife and her kids from her third marriage."

"Yes," Emily replied. "Well, he apparently works for _The New Englander._

"The magazine?" Lorelai asked.

Emily nodded. "Yes. He wanted to know if he might call you this week and set up an appointment. He told his editor about this place and she's interested in doing a feature on The Dragonfly and the town of Stars Hollow."

"You're kidding," Lorelai breathed. "That magazine has the largest circulation on the east coast. We've been trying since we opened to get them to even just mention us."

"So, you'd be interested, then?" Emily confirmed.

"Of course! Give him my contact information. That would be great, Mom!"

Emily smiled, pleased that Lorelai had taken so well to the idea. "Oh, and one more thing…"

"What? _Architectural Digest_ wants to do a layout on us, too?"

"No," Emily laughed. "Your 'main man Manny' left a message that our refusal of his linens constituted a breach of contract."

"No," Lorelai breathed, her shoulders sagging at the idea of what this would mean.

"It's all right. I pointed out to him that I had read your contract and that his three most recent deliveries were also breaches that justified repudiation. Thus we were in the right and should he need confirmation of that, he was welcome to call our attorney."

"But we don't exactly have an attorney, Mom…"

"Does Manny know that?" Emily asked.

"Oh, Mom," Lorelai grinned, "you're way too good at this. I should have you answer the phone instead of Michel. You'd be able to talk all of our guests into paying for more expensive rooms."

"I don't know about that, Lorelai," Emily effused, a bit embarrassed by the praise.

"Seriously, Mom … how do you know all this? Repudiation? Breach? They made me take some business law class in college but I definitely don't remember much of it."

Emily shrugged. "I suppose I've listened to enough self-righteous, overly confident attorneys at dinner parties to have an idea of the rhetoric they use."

"Who needs a degree in Business Management? I think I need to start going to these dinner parties with you," Lorelai commented.

* * *

Richard smiled as he rounded a corner, spotting his wife bending over a dark wood desk in a room that was so small she could barely turn around, let alone pull out the chair and sit down. She was flipping through a file feverishly, clearly looking for something in particular. When she found it, she let out a small sigh in contentment and held the file in her hands, scanning over its contents. Finally, Emily turned her to head to the side to see her husband standing just outside the doorway. Smiling, she put the paper down on the desk as he approached her.

"So, this is your office?" Richard asked, waving his hand in the air with an amused look on his face.

"It's Lorelai's office. She just lets me use it sometimes," she corrected him.

Richard chuckled, looking around the small room. "It's …" He held his thought as his wife's eyebrow raised, her eyes narrowed squarely in his direction. "Quaint," he finished.

Softening her face, Emily laughed. "It's small," she admitted, reaching down for the paper she had placed on the desk. "What brings you by the Inn?" she asked.

"I thought perhaps you might want to go get some lunch," Richard suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Emily smiled, looking down at her watch. "It's a lovely idea. But I'm afraid that I don't have time today." She tried to offer an apologetic smile to her husband's let down expression. "Perhaps next week?" she suggested, placing her hands squarely against his chest.

"Next week?" Richard reached for her hands, taking them in his own. "I miss you. You've been so busy lately that we barely see each other."

"I know," Emily breathed. There was a moment of silence between them which was soon filled with an awkward laugh. Richard looked at her, puzzled. "I'm sorry. It's just … I never thought I would be the one busy working while you are at home missing me."

Richard snorted, rolling his eyes as he took a step back.

"Oh, come on, Richard," she laughed. "I put up with it for forty years. You'll survive for a week," she reassured him, turning to pick up her paper from the desk.

"You know," he grinned, taking a step closer to her. "I seem to remember a time when you came to my office dressed in nothing but an overcoat."

Emily laughed lightly, looking away from him, still a bit embarrassed by how brazen she had been that day. "I was much younger back then," she countered.

"Yet no less attractive," he reassured her with a seductive grin, his hand moving to her hip as he pulled her closer to him.

The paper in her hand fluttered to the desk as his lips moved to her neck. She didn't respond yet she clearly made no effort to physically rebuff him. Allowing herself to give in to him for a few moments, she struggled with her restraint before regaining her composure. Gently pushing him back, she put a hand up between them. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I need to get this done today." Again she picked up the sheet of paper she'd come to the office to find.

"So do I," Richard grumbled, smiling at her with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Emily rolled her eyes. "I think you can live with a little bit of loneliness for a few days."

Huffing in frustration, Richard lifted his head and looked past her. "You should get back to your work," he stated, turning away.

"Richard," Emily called after him as he began to walk away from her. "Richard, please don't – " Ignoring her, he disappeared down the hallway. Emily shook her head, trying not to let herself get angry with him. She had put up with his work for forty years yet he couldn't support her for a couple of busy days? Realizing that she was clutching the paper in her hands, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

Hearing Lorelai's shoes as she approached, Emily smoothed out the paper and placed it back in the file on the desk. "I haven't made that call yet but I am about to go do it right now," she stated, trying to push all thoughts of Richard from her mind.

"Where's Dad?" Lorelai asked. "You two were back here alone for so long that I was almost afraid to come find you," she grinned, clearly in a playful mood, almost bouncing.

"I've got work to do," Emily groaned, walking past her daughter.

Watching as her mother marched down the hallway, Lorelai frowned. "It's no fun to tease you, if you don't play along," she mumbled.

* * *

"Oh my God," Lorelai breathed, falling back against the bed as she pulled Luke's flannel sheet up around herself. On cool nights, she was glad that his sheets were warm. Yet right now her body felt like it was on fire.

Too out of breath to respond, Luke exhaled loudly and nodded in agreement.

"You know," Lorelai heaved, taking in some air. "If we keep this up, our wedding night is going to be a really big disappointment."

"I seriously doubt that," Luke responded, shifting his sore legs to stretch them out.

"Did I tell you that I found a wedding gown?" she asked.

"No, you didn't," he replied, still breathing heavily.

"It was actually all my mother's doing," she admitted, glancing over at Luke to catch the look on his face. His mixture of surprise and confusion caused her to grin mischievously. "It's not like it sounds. We were picking up some towels for a wedding from Dunbar's Bridal."

"You bought a dress from Dunbar's?" Luke asked, suddenly lifting his head to look at her, clearly alarmed.

"Well…" she squirmed.

"If I walked into that place, they'd taser me and toss me out back into the alley."

Lorelai laughed and rolled her eyes. "No, they wouldn't. Ok … they might." She struggled for a moment to find the strength to push herself onto her side and propped her arm up beneath her chin. "My mother bought the dress."

"Lorelai …"

"I know what it sounds like, Luke. But she promised that this was it, she won't pay for anything else."

"And you believe that?" he asked.

"She's been really good lately." Luke's face remained stoic. "Come on, even you have to admit it. If I'm saying this, you know that a black hole has swallowed up the whole universe as we know it." Nodding in concession, Luke's face cracked just a bit. "And you can relax … my mother had nothing to do with picking out the dress. She wasn't even in the room when I first saw it."

"That does make me a feel a bit better, actually," he admitted.

"It's perfect, Luke," she breathed, her face immediately lighting up. "I know I can't tell you about it, but it's perfect. The material … the stitching … the design … oh, Luke …" she gushed.

The smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes warmed his heart and he knew that this was exactly what she wanted and that she wasn't being strong-armed by her mother. "I can't wait to see you in it," he spoke softly.

"Two months," she whispered, pushing her body closer to Luke's so that they lay only a few centimeters apart.

"Less than eight weeks," Luke corrected her, causing her to break out into a grin.

"Do you think we can break the record we set tonight?" she teased, her hand creeping its way up his chest as she brushed her nose over the nape of his neck.

"I think we're going to need all the practice we can get for our wedding night," Luke suggested, his voice low and sultry. "After all, they do say that practice makes perfect."

"I love the way you think," she moaned, feeling his arms circle around her as he pushed her onto her back, his body pressed against hers.

* * *

Lying on their backs, Emily and Richard both stared at the ceiling, neither saying a word. Their breathing was shallow and still a bit uneven. The silence felt awkward and neither knew what to say to not make things worse. It had been many years since the last time it had been like this and neither of them really cared to remember that particular night or the fight that had ensued.

Emily finally broke the silence, unable to stand the awkward tension between them. "I should go take a shower but I'm too tired to get up," she sighed, hoping the small talk would ease the air between them.

Richard moved slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You should have told me you were too tired to… " He didn't finish the sentence but Emily knew what he was implying and the tone of his voice irked her, turning her disappointment and guilt into anger.

"I did tell you, Richard. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear it," she replied, still staring up at the ceiling, her own arms crossed as she held the sheet to her body.

"Me? You're the one who has been too busy these past few weeks. How am I supposed to know that you were too tired to make love to me when you sure as hell didn't resist?"

"Me?" she asked incredulously, turning her head to look at him. Richard nodded and she angrily snapped her head back, once again staring straight ahead. "You have absolutely no right to say that to me," she seethed.

"What? That I wanted to spend time with you? That I wanted to be with my wife? How could I not see it? I'm clearly being selfish," he huffed, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Turning over angrily, Emily pushed herself onto her elbow as she glared at him. "Forty years, Richard!" she declared. He lifted up slightly and turned his head to look at her, uncertain of what she meant. "Forty years," she repeated more forcefully. "That is how many years I have spent waiting for you to come home or waiting for you to get off the phone and come to bed." Rolling onto his back once again, he stared at the ceiling as she continued. "How many nights do you think that I have laid in this bed and wished you were here? And how many nights do you think that I just wanted to be with my husband and to make love to him but you were too tired or too preoccupied with work? I have spent forty years being second in your line of priorities." At that, he turned his head to her once again. "Amazingly, I have been able to spend time with our daughter and not worry about when things are going to blow up between us. I have found something that I can do that makes me happy. That is what working at the Inn does, Richard. It makes me happy. I have spent so many years doing what you want. If I can do that for you for _forty years_ and be there to support you, then the least you can do is support me right now."

Richard sighed. "You should have told me you were too tired. When you aren't in the mood, you always turn me down … but you didn't and I didn't realize…" His voice trailed off and he turned his head away from her to look back at the ceiling.

"I know that I have been neglecting you lately and I didn't want to disappoint you again," she spoke softly. "I just didn't…" her voice trailed off.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to make me happy, Emily. We don't have to make love to spend time together. I just miss you. Having dinner together more than once or twice a week would be nice," he suggested.

"I know," she whispered. The awkward silence once again fell upon them.

"Emily …" Richard spoke first this time.

"Yes?" she asked, looking over at him as Richard reached for her hand.

"You aren't second in my life. You've always been my first priority. I'm just sorry that I didn't always make you feel that way." Emily nodded her head as she looked up at the ceiling. "I love you very much," he spoke.

"I love you, too, Richard," she spoke, squeezing his hand. It still felt a bit awkward between them but they both knew that things would be fine in the morning.

* * *

_Thanks to DieHardJavaJunkie14, LorLukealways, ejl, RiskaSG, and B. Alex Milligan for the reviews. We appreciate all of your comments!_


	4. I Want My Mother

**Chapter 4**

_**I Want My Mother**_

Out of breath, Lorelai limped through the front door of the Dragonfly favoring her right ankle. "Okay… seriously…who knew Marty the Mailman could run that fast?" Lorelai panted as she stumbled over to the front desk and braced herself against it while she tried to get her breathing under control.

Michel chuckled haughtily. "You should have seen yourself chasing him all the way to his tiny mail car."

"I would have caught him too if my heel hadn't gotten stuck between the boards of the front steps," she groused, attempting to tuck a stray lock of hair back into her now disheveled ponytail. She tucked her blue blouse back into the waist of her black skirt then noticed the skirt had twisted around. She yanked the skirt back into place and smoothed it down.

Emily had watched her daughter's dramatic entrance from the doorway to the library and now approached her from behind, eyeing her from head to toe. "What on earth?"

"Hey, Mom," Lorelai answered as she rotated her ankle cautiously. Turning back to Michel she complained. "I don't understand why every time I try to talk to someone they go running off in the opposite direction."

"Lorelai," Emily tried again to get her daughter's attention.

"Think about it now, is it everyone or just certain people?" Michel asked smugly.

"What do you mean?" Lorelai queried.

"I mean that perhaps it is just people of a certain gender that are fleeing from you," Michel gloated.

Emily noisily dropped the files she'd been holding onto the desk. "Someone tell me what is going on here," she demanded.

Michel remained quiet but continued to smirk, his raised eyebrow daring Lorelai to explain to her mother.

"Man, how did word get out so quickly?" Lorelai said with a dramatic sigh.

Emily's gaze fixed on her daughter, silently demanding an explanation.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and groaned. The expression on her mother's face made her feel like she was six years old again and had gotten her party dress dirty. "I'm just trying to get a partner for the Annual Stars Hollow Dance Marathon. I don't see what the big deal is. Am I some pariah or something?"

"Well…" Michel replied still reveling in Lorelai's plight.

"What?" Lorelai demanded. "What's the town saying about me?"

"Oh Lorelai, I doubt you are the sole topic of conversation in the entire town," Emily stated.

"Well, perhaps not the entire town," Michel agreed, "just all of those between the ages of eighteen and eighty and I believe the word I heard used most often was jinx."

"Jinx? Jinx!" Lorelai cried indignantly. "I am not a jinx! How can they call me a jinx? I've had a few bad years? So? What does that mean?"

"A few bad years?" Michel repeated his eyebrow raised incredulously. "Every year you've entered has been a bad year…for your partners that is?"

"Some of those things were not my fault. How was I supposed to know Bobby Benson had a trick knee. And…and…Sam staying out all night drinking at his brother's bachelor party. I told him to get to bed early the night before, but no. He couldn't do that. Just passed out right there in the middle of the dance floor in hour twenty. I could taste the trophy that year."

"What about the year you tripped and took out three other couples?" he challenged.

"Someone left a candy wrapper on the floor. I still say it was Kirk. All part of his evil plan to take me down. That was the year Kenny Singleton and I were the favorite to beat him."

"Didn't you and Rory take part in this dance marathon a few years ago?" Emily asked.

"Mmm, Rory," Michel nodded his grin widening.

"That was so not my fault. That thing with Rory, Dean, and Jess had been coming for a long time. It was Jess that forced the issue at the dance marathon. Man, Rory and I almost had it, too. No more talk about the past. I'm focusing on the future. This is the year Kirk is finally going down. I can feel it. It's my year. I just need a partner."

"Well why don't you and Luke enter together?" Emily suggested.

"Ah, have you met Luke?" Lorelai questioned sarcastically.

"I guess you do have a point there," Emily nodded in agreement.

"Well, clearly it is time for plan B," Lorelai declared.

"And what may I ask is Plan B?" Michel questioned.

"I'm not sure, but when I think of it…you, my friend, will be the last to know," she warned, pointing at Michel.

Michel huffed and replied. "As if I care about your silly small town dance marathon. I am taking my ten."

Lorelai crossed her arms and glared at Michel as he walked away from the front desk.

"Lorelai, I wanted to talk to you about something," Emily stated following Lorelai around to the back of the desk.

"Sure, Mom. Shoot."

"Well, your father and I went to Dinny Scott's daughter's wedding on Saturday –"

"Dinny Scott, isn't that woman on like her fourth husband?" Lorelai interrupted.

"Fifth but she's divorcing him, that's why she's back to using Scott. This was her daughter Dina's wedding and there – " Emily began to explain.

"Dina Scott?" Lorelai cut her off again. "Wow, I haven't thought about her since like ninth grade when they sent her away to that fat farm."

"Portmouth is not a fat farm," Emily corrected her. "It's a very well respected boarding school."

"Portly Portmouth, Mom, the girls that went there were only outweighed by their trust funds."

Emily did well to keep from smiling, but there was a spark of humor in her eyes as she shook her head. "Lorelai, I did have a point."

"Sorry, go on Mom," she conceded.

"I was trying to tell you about the flowers. They were gorgeous. Really. The best I've seen at any event in years. The man who did them was a friend of Dina's. He's just opened up a shop in Hartford and I got his card. I think he'd be great for the wedding and maybe we could even use him for our floral arrangements here." Emily opened her leather portfolio and removed business card from the inside pocket.

"We really don't need a new florist," Lorelai replied.

"You should just go to the shop. Look at his work," Emily countered.

"Mom, really, I like the florist here in Stars Hollow," Lorelai protested.

"Lorelai, I'm only suggesting you look at the man's work. If you don't like it you don't have to use him, and at the very least you may get some ideas for what you'd like for the wedding," Emily reasoned. "Have you got anything in mind yet?"

"No," Lorelai admitted with a reluctant sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to go and look."

Emily smiled and nodded then quietly picked up her files from the counter top and walked away leaving Lorelai staring down at the card in her hand.

* * *

"Come on, you've got to have an opinion one way or the other," Lorelai insisted, standing next to the stove in the kitchen as Luke sat at the table, a yellow notepad in his hands..

"I don't," he repeated once again.

"Yes, you do. You can't just be opinion-less. There has got to be one that you like more than the other."

"What is there to have an opinion about?" he asked, putting the pad down as he turned his head to look at her.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "The color, the style, the shape, the smell … lots of stuff, Luke."

"It is all the same to me," he shrugged.

Groaning, Lorelai walked from the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a magazine in her hands. Dropping it down in front of Luke, she flipped a few pages in an annoyed manner. "Those are lilies," she pointed to a photo. "And those are hydrangeas," she pointed to another. "These are orchids."

"I am aware of what flowers look like, Lorelai," he spoke dryly.

"So, then you know that they aren't the same," she argued.

"I didn't say they are the same. I said I don't have an opinion about which one I like more than the other. They are all the same to me," he clarified.

"How can you not have an opinion?" Lorelai demanded, her tone rising.

Luke groaned and rolled his head back. "I just don't. Do you have an opinion about whether or not you like monkey wrenches better than socket wrenches?"

"What?" she frowned.

"Exactly!" he triumphed.

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai tapped her finger on the magazine. "There has got to be one of these that you like more than the others."

"They're just flowers," he insisted.

"They are not just flowers," Lorelai clarified. "They are going to set the tone for our entire wedding."

"So just pick which one you like. I trust your judgment."

"But I want you to be involved in this, too, Luke. It is our wedding, not just my wedding," she pushed.

"If you are happy, then that is all that I need."

"Well, I'm not happy because you won't give me an opinion!" she yelled.

"I don't have an opinion!" Luke replied, raising his voice to meet hers.

"Oh my God," she seethed. "I want my mother," she huffed, moving her hand to her hip as she paced around in a circle.

"What?" Luke choked out.

"I want my mother. You won't give me an opinion about which flowers you like but she will."

"You are upset that I don't have an opinion, so you are going to have your mother pick for us because you are mad at me?" Luke sighed.

"I am not mad at you, Luke," she corrected him.

"Well, your eyes aren't exactly saying 'I love you' right now."

"I'm annoyed that you can have no opinion about something like the type of flowers that will be all over our wedding and in our photos for the rest of our lives, but I'm not mad."

"Lorelai," he spoke softly, pulling on her arm as she slid down into his lap. "When I said that I don't care about where we get married, what we wear, who is there … I meant that. I care about one thing – you. We could get married at City Hall with two strangers as our witnesses or we could get married at the Waldorf; none of that matters to me. I've wasted enough time being an idiot and not marrying you the first time I had the chance."

"You'd get married at the Waldorf?" she interrupted him.

"Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration," he corrected himself.

"What if I wanted to get married at the Waldorf? Would you do it for me?"

"You're not actually wanting to change the plans we've already made, are you?" he asked, a worried tone evident in his voice.

Lorelai smiled and bent her head forward to kiss him quickly. "No, I'm not going to change our plans. I'm only teasing you."

"Good," he breathed.

"I'm glad you trust me," she smiled. "I just want this day to be special for you, too."

"The fact that I have you back and that we are about to get married, that makes every day special for me."

"Will you stop saying all the right things?" she teased. "It makes it a lot harder to be annoyed with you when you're being this perfect."

"I'm serious, Lorelai."

"I know," she spoke. They were silent for a moment before Lorelai spoke up again. "You're sure that you don't have an opinion about the flowers?" she asked, hoping that the tender moment might elicit a response from him.

Luke shook his head and Lorelai groaned loudly, pushing herself back to her feet. "I want my Mother!" she huffed, snatching up her magazine and walking out of the kitchen.

* * *

Lorelai stood at the front desk going through the month's guest check-in cards and making notes on the individual guests, what they liked, what they'd signed up for, things to remember if they were to stay again. Later she'd type the notes into the computer but it was just easier to jot them down this way.

Michel sidled up to her and stood almost touching shoulder to shoulder, waiting for her to notice him, which she did immediately.

Lorelai glanced at her long-time concierge as though he'd sprouted another head. This was a man with very clearly defined rules of personal space. As a matter of fact, she knew the exact distance he preferred to stand from someone. She'd heard it often enough, thirty-four and one-quarter inches, the exact distance from his shoulder to his fingertips plus two inches. So why was he currently standing close enough to her for their sleeves to touch? Clearly he wanted something. She took a half step to the side, partly because she wanted to mess with him and partly because it felt uncomfortable to stand this close. Sure enough he slid over seconds later, again the shoulder of his suit coat brushing up against the sleeve of her dress. She took another, larger step to the side and turned her back almost against the wall. Not waiting for him to close the distance, she held up her hand to stop his advance. "Michel, do you want something?"

"I was just wondering if you had found a victim, I mean… partner yet for the dance marathon?" he questioned, his voice holding it's usual superior tone.

"No, I haven't," she replied side stepping around him and moving to the other end of the counter.

"Ahhhh," he signed and nodded his head.

Lorelai reached for the stack of cards and slid them over in front of her.

"So, the male members of this pathetic little town have finally gotten wise to you?" he asked.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "I guess so."

"And you have no other possibilities? No newcomers that have yet to learn your trail of embarrassed, ridiculed, and broken former partners?"

Lorelai sighed dramatically. "No."

"So then, you have given up on the idea of entering the contest?" he asked picking up a pad of watermelon Post-its and tapping it casually on the counter.

"No. I'm not giving up. A Gilmore never gives up," she declared resolutely.

"But you say you have no possible ideas for a partner," he countered swaying his body a bit then moving his feet.

Lorelai sighed again, "Michel, would _you_ like to be my dance partner?"

Turning his gaze heavenward Michel muttered, "At last she sees and recognizes true talent." He then looked to her and answered, "No."

"No?" Lorelai demanded. "What was that whole little performance about if it was not to get me to ask you to be my partner?"

Michel shrugged. "Imerely wanted to be asked. I have no intention of participating in your pathetic little rinky-dink small town contest. It would be beneath me."

"Argh," Lorelai grumbled as she stalked away from him.

* * *

_Thanks to B. Alex Milligan, Riska, DieHardJavaJunkie14, Mary, Lilienprinzessin, and Aleta II Anon for the reviews. We're glad that you are enjoying the story! Thanks for taking the time to review!_

* * *


	5. You Know Paul Anka?

**Chapter 5**

_**You Know Paul Anka?**_

"Hey, Buddy," Lorelai cooed, running her palm along Clyde's back as she stood next to him, looking over the newly completed stables. They were two weeks behind schedule and about ten thousand dollars over budget. However, all those worries were long gone and the stables were perfect. They already had more guests booked and the riding lessons that they had advertised were filled up well into the spring.

Hearing her phone ringing, she reached into her pocket and looked down at the caller ID. Not recognizing the number, she flipped the phone open and pressed it to her ear, still petting Clyde. "Hello?"

"Ms. Gilmore? This is Aubrey Van Patterson-Patten. You left me a message last week."

"Yes," Lorelai replied, taking a moment to place the name in her memory.

"The orchestra is available the weekend that you requested. However, we had another call that came in just after yours that wants the same weekend. We will give you preference but we are going to need confirmation today that you'll book that specific weekend."

"Oh…" Lorelai stammered, "well, I'm sure that's fine."

"Great," the woman chirped, "let me get some information from you and we'll set this up."

Hearing the door to the stables open, Lorelai's head snapped up at the sound of voices … familiar voices. She could hear her mother approaching, talking to someone whose voice she didn't recognize. Looking around Clyde's stall, she realized that she was trapped. Aubrey was going on about rates and packages and she couldn't get a word in to silence her. As Emily's voice grew louder, Lorelai did all she could think to do. Ducking down, she hid beneath the stall door. Hoping that her mother would just walk by without looking around too much, she pressed herself back against the door.

Cautiously watching as Clyde eyed her in apparent confusion, her eyes darted around the stall. She just hoped that he wouldn't get agitated or flustered by her uncommon behavior. The hay crunched beneath her feet as she hunched down lower and silently cursed herself for making a noise.

"What was that?" the unfamiliar voice asked.

"I don't know," Emily replied, looking around at the horses standing comfortably in their spacious stalls.

"It sounded like a sneeze," she woman noted.

"Yes, it did," Emily agreed.

"Can horses sneeze?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Emily admitted. "But why don't we finish the tour? I'll show you the rest of the grounds."

Lorelai breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the sound of the stable door closing. Standing up, she brushed the hay and dirt from her dress and smiled at Clyde, bending forward to kiss him on the nose as she held the phone to her ear. "Yeah, that sounds great. Just let me talk with my father and I'll get back to you … all right. Thank you. Good-bye."

Snapping her phone shut, she turned around, emitting a piercing scream as she stumbled backwards and dropped her phone. Clyde made a loud noise and moved back as Lorelai stumbled against him. "My God!" Lorelai exclaimed, holding her hands to her chest as she looked at her mother standing almost directly in front of her. She regained her balance though her legs still felt shaky.

"Why are you hiding in the stables?" Emily asked calmly, as if she hadn't noticed Lorelai's fright.

Still trying to catch her breath and return her heartbeat to a normal pulse, Lorelai stared incredulously at her mother. Finally able to speak, she bent down and picked up her phone as Clyde resettled himself.

"You haven't answered my question, Lorelai," Emily repeated, following behind Lorelai as she silently exited the stall and headed for the door.

"I wasn't hiding," she explained simply, her pulse still elevated. "Oh, my god," she sighed, exhaling loudly, still shaken up by the surprise.

"Oh really?" Emily's voice now held a distinct tone of disbelief.

"Nope." Her short, simple answers slightly annoyed Emily, prompting her to demand more.

"So, what would you call crouching down in a stall with a two thousand pound horse?"

"Clyde and I were bonding," Lorelai insisted.

"Bonding?" Emily asked suspiciously. "And since when does your definition of bonding include clutching a phone in your hands and whispering into it clandestinely?"

"Clyde doesn't like cell phones. That's all," she shrugged it off. "And I was not being clandestine, Mother," she added.

"Yet he didn't mind when you thought I was gone and stood up to finish your conversation. You were even petting him." Her comment wasn't exactly accusing yet it had that distinct tone that only Emily Gilmore had perfected, accusing without directly accusing.

"What is this, The Inquisition, Mom?" Lorelai continued to cross the grounds and walk toward the main building. "Besides, don't you have a guest waiting or something?"

"She needed to use the restroom," Emily brushed it off. "I simply want to know why you were hiding from me," she demanded, returning to the topic of conversation.

"I was not hiding!" Lorelai protested, spinning around to face her mother.

"Then who were you talking to?" Emily asked.

"Did you know that is it incorrect to end a sentence with a preposition? I didn't know that until Rory told me."

"Stop evading my question. You are acting as if you don't want to tell me the person that was on the phone," Emily pointed out.

"What?" She knew she couldn't dodge her mother but that wasn't going to stop her from trying.

"The person on the phone. You said that you'd need to speak to your father first."

"Uh … yeah," she stammered, "it was about an insurance matter regarding the stables. You know, Dad's my insurance guy, so I gotta talk to him first."

"I could speak to your father tonight, if you'd like. That way you don't have to do more work," Emily suggested, certain that her daughter was lying to her.

"That's okay," Mom," Lorelai replied, trying to find a way to extricate herself from the situation. "Besides, isn't Dad out of town? Seattle, right?"

"Yes but he calls me every night. So, if there's something you would like me to mention to him before he gets home…"

"Nope, I'm good," Lorelai answered with a forced smile. "But there is one thing you can ask him for me…"

"Yes?"

"Can he bring home some coffee? I hear they have the best coffee there but I've never been to Seattle and it isn't likely that I'll get to go any time soon… You know, planning and a wedding and a honeymoon and all," she replied casually.

Seeing her guest returning, Emily didn't respond but began to walk away.

"Let me know what Dad says about the coffee…" Lorelai called after her.

"Whatever you say, Lorelai," Emily conceded, walking away from her daughter. "But …" she stopped and turned back around for a moment, "the next time you are hiding from me, could you not do it in a stall with a two thousand pound horse? I would prefer not to have to explain to Rory and your father why you were trampled to death by our Clydesdale."

Lorelai shrugged her shoulders as Emily walked away.

* * *

"Thanks again for coming with me," Lorelai stated as they approached the address she'd written down. "I think this is it," she confirmed, looking down at the paper in her hands and back up at the number that was written on the plaque that hung by the front door.

"Well, it looks lovely," Emily noted, sitting deathly still in the passenger's seat. She was trying to hide her discomfort but the fact that there was a large red stain next to her right thigh was rather disheartening, as was the fact that there were empty cups of coffee in the console.

"Yeah, lovely," Lorelai agreed off-handedly, taking note of the fact that all the flowers in the front yard were all different shades of pink. She glanced over at her mother and smiled as Emily daintily tried to remove the seatbelt without actually having to touch it. "You need some help there, Mom?" she teased.

"I'm fine, Lorelai," Emily replied in her usual, unattached tone of voice as she succeeded in freeing herself from the seatbelt and cautiously lifted it away from her shoulder and let it slide back into place. Pushing the door open, the latch didn't disengage.

"You have to use your shoulder sometimes. The lock gets stuck," Lorelai informed her. Emily slowly turned her head to look at her daughter. "Here, I'll do it," she huffed, bending over and reaching across her mother. Grabbing the door handle in one hand and shoving on the door with the other, she grunted and pushed forcefully.

"Thank you," Emily replied uneasily, feeling a bit uncomfortable by the closeness of their contact and the fact that her daughter was literally stretched out across her lap.

They both exited the car and walked up the front porch. The wrought iron railings were lined with ivy and light pink flowers trellised across them, giving the effect of a living garland.

As Emily was about to knock on the door, it flew open and a tall, skinny man appeared before them. "You must be the Gilmores!" he declared, clapping his hands together in delight. "I'm Burton Laurentis." He extended his hand out to Lorelai. "You must be the blushing bride."

"I am indeed," she confirmed with an uneasy smile as he examined her.

"That face!" he declared. "I can just see it standing up at the altar surrounded by my flowers." He made a sound that resembled a squeal and then turned toward Emily. "Ah, Mrs. Gilmore, so nice to see you again."

Emily nodded and smiled politely. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Laurentis."

He laughed in a high-pitched tone. "Please, call me Burton. There's nothing gentlemanly about me," he teased. "I've been so excited about your visit. I think you are going to love the ideas I've come up with for the wedding!"

"I hope so," Lorelai agreed tentatively, glancing over at her mother, who didn't seem to be a bit bothered by the man's outgoing behavior.

"Now, where are my manners?" he chided himself. "Please come inside. As much as I love to show off my porch, I'm sure you've got better things to do than stand out here and admire my prize winning hydrangeas and orchids." He made a motion towards them before stepping aside to allow Lorelai and Emily to enter.

"Was he like this when you met him at the wedding or do you think he's been sniffing the flowers one too many times?" she whispered as Emily followed closed behind her.

"Lorelai, behave," her mother hissed.

"Right this way," he waved his hand, leading them into a room near the back of the house.

As Burton led them down the hallway, Lorelai got a better look at what he was wearing. His blue paisley oxford shirt was tucked perfectly into his tight-fitting dark-wash jeans. A crisp white belt sat perfectly at his waist.

"Oh what a lovely room," Emily declared the moment they rounded the corner.

"Thank you," he smiled, turning around and motioning for Emily and Lorelai to take a seat at a round table that sat in the middle of the room. "I was inspired by Vera's Wang's wedding collection from last year. She had this shade of mother-of-pearl that I just fell in love with. I knew I had to find a way to build a whole room around it."

"Well, it's lovely," Emily repeated.

Burton took a seat across from them and reached for a large folder in the middle of the table. "I know you aren't yet entirely certain on a color scheme, so I figured I'd give you a couple of choices." He laughed before continuing. "But when I give myself choices, I just tend to go crazy and come up with all sorts of ideas. That's how this happened," he chuckled, patting the thick binder. "Why don't I just let the two of you go through that for a few minutes." He slid it over to them. "Would either of you like some tea? I just put a kettle on the stove."

"That would be wonderful," Emily smiled.

"Mango-apricot all right with you?" he asked.

"That's fine," Emily confirmed, hoping that the tea tasted better than its name suggested.

Lorelai looked up, realizing that Burton was staring at her expectantly. "I'm good, but thanks."

"I'll be right back!" he chirped, nearly bouncing out of the room.

"Seriously, Mom," Lorelai began as soon as the coast was clear, "where the hell do you find these people?"

"He seems like a very nice man," Emily commented, opening the binder.

"Yeah, a nice man who decorated an entire room in mother-of-pearl," she commented.

"We're here to look at flowers, not at his home, Lorelai," Emily chided, patting her hand on the book. "Here, look at these. They're all stunning."

Lorelai turned her attention to the binder, finding herself pleasantly surprised by what she saw. As she turned the pages and flipped through them, she somehow liked each new design more than the previous.

"So," Burton spoke, announcing his reentry as he brought a dainty teacup to Emily.

"Thank you," she smiled, sitting it down before her.

"So, what did I miss while I was gone?" he asked, resuming his seat across from Lorelai and holding Emily, his teacup in his hands as he took a dainty sip of it.

"I … I don't…" Lorelai stammered, still flipping back and forth through the pages.

"I think my daughter is having a difficult time deciding on what she likes best," Emily finished.

"Deciding on what I like best?" Lorelai scoffed. "I can't even decide what I like least. They're all perfect."

Burton smiled proudly. "You said this wedding is New Year's Eve, right?" Lorelai nodded. "Well, I like to have my orders submitted at least six weeks in advance. So, you do have a limited amount of time."

"Yeah," Lorelai sighed.

"Why don't you take that book home with you and perhaps discuss it with your fiancé," he suggested.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I think I'd have better luck laying out the photos and letting Paul Anka decide."

"You know Paul Anka?" Burton asked, his interest clearly piqued.

"That's her dog," Emily clarified.

"You named a dog after a 1960s teen idol?"

"Out of respect, of course," she confirmed.

"Ah," Burton smiled. "Preston and I just love him."

As Lorelai looked up at Burton, she suddenly noticed a grouping of photographs hanging behind him and an idea began to ferment in her mind. She was only snapped out of her thoughts by her mother's voice calling her name.

"Lorelai!" Emily declared.

"Huh? What? Sorry," she covered. "I was just looking at the pictures you've got on the wall."

Burton turned around slightly to see what she was referring to. "Oh, yes, those," he smiled. "The Montreal Ballroom Dance Competition. Five-time winner," he boasted. "The Canadian competition photos are in another room. Sadly," he sighed, "I only won that one four times."

"That's very impressive," Emily commented.

"So, you're a dancer?" Lorelai probed.

"Only since I was four," he informed her. "I stole my sister's tap shoes and … well, I never took them off."

"Do you still dance?" she asked eagerly.

"I retired after winning the International competition for the third time. I felt that it was only fair to let another team have their chance at the title," he explained.

"So, you were like a professional dancer?" she inquired, her face lit up. This was perfect. Oh so perfect.

"Technically, I'm not actually retired. But my partner hurt her knee a few years back and we haven't done anything since. Though, I do still practice daily. You know, it's become my routine for so many years."

"Of course," Lorelai agreed. This was just getting better by the second. Not only was he a professional dancer but his partner was out of the picture.

"Perhaps we should-" Emily attempted to interrupt, but Lorelai quickly cut her off.

"You know, the town of Stars Hollow has this annual dance. I always compete in it. It is a small town gig but you might just enjoy it," Lorelai suggested. "And they give a trophy to the last couple still standing at the end," she added.

"It sounds fabulous," he declared, crossing his arms and leaning forward. "Tell me more."

"It lasts twenty-four hours and the last couple standing gets a trophy," she smiled. "A big trophy," she emphasized, her grin growing larger.

"I love big trophies," Burton declared.

"Me too." They both laughed.

"Where do I sign up? You called this town Stars Hollow?"

"Yep," she confirmed. It couldn't get more perfect than this. Finally, she'd found the ideal dancing partner. There was no way she'd lose again this year. Kirk would finally go down.

"Preston is going to be so excited," Burton declared. "This could be just what he needs to inspire him to get back out there and dance again. I've been telling him for years that he needs to just get back up on the horse!"

"Oh, does he dance too?" Lorelai asked not quite following the connection.

"Oh, he loves it. He still has trouble with his back but that's just when he does the Meringue or the Lindy Hop, but I doubt anyone gets quite that fancy at a little local competition."

"No," Lorelai confirmed.

"This is going to be fantastic," Burton gushed excitedly.

"Yep, fantastic!" Lorelai agreed happily. "Does Preston have a partner?"

Burton giggled and brought his hand up to his mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry," he continued to giggle and wave his hands about. Finally getting control, he continued. "Preston and I have been dancing together for several years now. In fact that's how we met. GMBDC, The Gay Men's Ballroom Dance Club."

"Oh. OH!" Lorelai nodded, her face turning pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I should have put that together."

Burton shrugged off her embarrassment. "You simply must get me the entry forms," he insisted.

"Sure," she stated, her dejection going over Burton's head in his excitement.

"I have to go call Preston right away," he announced. "Why don't you take that binder with you and let me know what you've decided in a couple days?"

"That's fine," she agreed. As she and Emily rose from their seats, Burton was nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" he exclaimed.

A few minutes later both Lorelai and Emily were seated in the jeep on the way back to Stars Hollow.

"This is going to be a first for Star's Hollow, that's for sure," Lorelai sighed, devastated that yet another plan had fallen through. It had seemed so perfect, too.

"Lorelai, your behavior was beyond inappropriate," Emily chided her. "We went there to discuss flowers for your wedding. You turned the entire hour into a discussion about ballroom dancing."

"I didn't hear Mr. Happy Feet complaining about it," she defended, still upset. "The only fun part about this will be watching Taylor's expression when they take to the floor. He might just implode."

"And how on earth could you possibly not understand that his dance partner would be his_partner?" _Emily asked.

"Well excuse me for not immediately thinking of two men ballroom dancing together. You certainly can't tell me you knew about the Gay Men's Ballroom Dance Club?"

"Of course not, Lorelai. If you keep this up, you are going to have to walk down the aisle with a bouquet of grocery store daisies."

"Yeah," Lorelai moped, "especially now that Burton is going to be busy training for the Stars Hollow Dance-A-Thon."

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" Emily asked. "That stupid dance competition."

Lorelai gasped. "It isn't a stupid competition. It is there premiere event in Stars Hollow's social calendar. It gives two people bragging rights for the entire year."

"It sounds ridiculous," Emily declared. "I mean, who wants to dance for twenty-four hours straight."

"You wouldn't understand," Lorelai insisted.

"I understand perfectly," Emily stated. "I just do not see how anyone could possibly enjoy it. Your father is an excellent dancer and we've become rather in tune after forty years but even I wouldn't want to spend twenty-four hours clinging to him on a dance floor."

"You think Dad would want to enter the marathon?" Lorelai asked, her interest piqued and her mood suddenly brighter.

"No, Lorelai," Emily confirmed.

"Why don't we let Dad decide for himself?"

"Lorelai," she repeated sternly.

"Fine," she huffed. "I'll just add this to the list of reasons why I need therapy."

"Well, considering that it must be a rather long list by now, I'll probably be dead by the time you get to it."

"Very funny," she pouted.

"Lorelai, it is just a dance marathon," Emily tried to make her feel better.

"It isn't just a dance marathon, Mom. Stars Hollow is my town. I've got to win just one time! Kirk has beaten me over and over. Kirk! You remember Kirk, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember Kirk," Emily confirmed.

"Yeah, well … I've got to win this year."

"You're a very resourceful woman. I'm sure you'll figure something out," Emily smiled, patting her daughter's leg supportively.

"You're just saying that because you're my mother," she pouted.

"Well, you can discuss that too with your therapist."

* * *

"Hello?" Emily spoke, pressing the cordless phone to her ear as she made some notes on a piece of paper attached to the clipboard that rested on her lap. The bed sheet and blanket were pulled up to her waist, keeping her legs warm as she worked.

"Hello, Dear," came the familiar voice.

"Richard," she smiled, "I was wondering when you were going to call. It's already past nine o'clock."

"Well, my dinner ran a bit later than expected," he explained.

"I tried to call you all day," Emily noted, replacing the cap on her pen.

"It was a busy day but we accomplished a lot." Emily could hear a shuffling sound in the background and assumed that Richard was just now getting back to his hotel room. A few seconds later the sound of a door closing confirmed her speculations.

"That's good," Emily noted. "I was just missing you."

"Well, I tried to call you last night but you weren't home," Richard informed her, taking a seat on the bed.

"Oh yes, I was out with Lorelai," Emily explained.

"I see," he nodded.

"We had an appointment with a florist. You remember the man who did Dinny Scott's daughter's wedding, right?"

"Yes," he confirmed, loosening his bow tie before kicking off his shoes.

"Well, Lorelai managed to get an appointment with him last night. Though, I don't know how productive it was. She spent the entire time trying to get him to be her dance partner."

"Her dance partner?" Richard asked, the confusion evident in his voice.

"Yes, that stupid Stars Hollow dance marathon she enters every year."

"I don't remember that," Richard insisted.

"Well, she enters every year," Emily continued. "She never wins."

"What does this have to do with you not answering the phone?" he asked.

"I was just trying to explain why I wasn't home yet," she defended.

"Well, saying that you were out with Lorelai was enough to convey the message."

"Oh," she stopped, trying to determine if she'd heard a tone of annoyance in his voice. "Is everything all right, Richard?" she asked.

"Yes, everything is fine," he insisted.

"I really didn't mean to miss your call last night. Lorelai had to take me back to the Inn to get my car. And then we of course got pulled into some confusion that was going on with the kitchen staff."

"I really don't need the explanation, Emily," he stated simply.

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked. "I'm just trying to tell you about my day."

"I'm tired, Emily. It has been a very long day here," Richard sighed.

"Then why don't you go to bed?" she suggested, her own annoyance rising.

"I intend to do that once we are finished," he confirmed. They were both silent for a few moments. "Are we finished?" he asked.

"I suppose we are," Emily noted.

"All right, then. I'll call you tomorrow."

"You do that," she stated coldly.

Hearing what sounded like a click, Emily pulled the phone from her ear and looked down at it. He didn't even say good-night or that he loved her. Placing the phone back in its place with a little more force than necessary, she pushed herself up and angrily flipped on the television.

Richard dropped his cell phone onto the bed. It was always Lorelai and work. That was all that Emily had time for lately. He knew that she was enjoying her time with Lorelai and he was glad that things were going well between them. Yet he didn't understand why she couldn't see how much time she was spending away from home. On the weekends if she didn't have an event booked at the Inn, she was attending a luncheon or a fundraiser for one of the numerous charities in which she was still a full participant. In fact, she still made time for all of the activities she'd been involved with before she began working at the Inn, especially the DAR. The only thing she wasn't making time for was him.

* * *

_**Notes:** Thanks to Aleta II Anon, Sandra, lilienprinzessin, Ann Y. Mous, LorLukealways, Mary, Riska, swimmerluver, B Alex Milligan, and DieHardJavaJunkie14__for the reviews!_

_Also, we will be on holiday for the weekend. Chapter 6 will be posted on Monday._


	6. Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Chapter 6**

_**Like Mother, Like Daughter**_

Emily stopped in the foyer of the Inn and turned slowly in a circle trying to think of where else to go. She'd already looked in the library, lobby, sitting room, dining room, kitchen and garden for her daughter and had yet to find her. Then she heard quick footsteps descending the staircase behind her. "Lorelai, there you are!" she exclaimed.

"Yep, here I am, Mom," Lorelai answered with a smile. In her hand she held a twig basket overflowing with brightly colored silk leaves, papier-mâché pumpkins, and other autumnal decorations. "Did you need something?"

"Yes, we just got a call from a Mrs. Samuelson. She wants to book a party for the Friday after next. Now, I know it's short notice, but I really think we can pull it together."

"Ahh… no. We can't," Lorelai replied walking slowly through the seating area of the lobby and over to the fireplace. "

Emily followed. "I know you wanted to keep this weekend relatively clear because of the dance marathon, but even if you couldn't be here next weekend, I really think the staff and I could handle everything."

"Well…" Lorelai murmured, moving to one of the side tables and continuing with her decorating.

"Unless you don't think I can handle it?" Emily asked.

Lorelai paused, a small bright yellow gourd in her hand, and looked at Emily. "No, it's not that at all, Mom. I think you would do a great job" she quickly assured her, "but… there's… um… there's already something booked for next Friday."

Emily flipped open the burgundy leather folio in her hands. "There isn't anything on the calendar."

Lorelai busied herself adding some gold and dark orange leaves to the display on the low table. "I… uh… I must have forgotten to put it on the calendar."

"Why wouldn't you put it on the calendar?" Emily questioned.

"I guess I just got distracted," Lorelai answered quickly moving to the windows. "You know, things were busy and I think a guest came to check in and Michel was on a break. I just forgot."

"When was this?" Emily slightly adjusted the placement of the arrangement on the side table before following Lorelai.

"Oh, um… about a week or two ago I think," Lorelai answered, her focus decidedly on the grouping of small pumpkins she was placing in the window sill.

"Well, who booked this party? What's the occasion?" Emily demanded in rapid succession. "There must be things that need to be done."

"Um… well, so far everything's under control," Lorelai quickly answered then walked out of the room and to the reservation desk. "but next week there will be stuff we need to do."

Emily was close on her heels. "You didn't answer my questions, Lorelai. What is the occasion for this party and who booked it? Is it anyone I know?"

Lorelai took great care in placing the basket on a low counter behind the desk before making a show of looking through the remaining decorations for something. "Uh, no, I don't think you know her Mom. It's a Mrs. ahh.. Mrs. Um," she stammered trying to think, "Fritzen-Heimer. She's used the Inn for events before, but not in a while."

"FritzenHeimer?" Emily asks incredulously. "Are you sure that's the right name?"

Lorelai smiled a big bright smile and nodded enthusiastically. "Yep."

Shaking her head Emily flipped open her folio and began to write the name. "FritzenHeimer."

Lorelai looked over her mother's shoulder. "It's hyphenated," she corrected pointing down to the paper, "Fritzen…Heimer,"

"Okay," Emily replied as she glanced at her daughter sideways before adding the correct punctuation to the name.

* * *

Lorelai sighed dramatically, her shoulders sagging as she stared blankly at the front door of her parent's home.

"What is it?" Luke asked, placing a comforting hand on her back. "Did something happen with your mother?"

Lorelai sighed again as she dropped her head on his shoulder. "No. I just can't believe it's already Friday night. The dance marathon starts in less than twelve hours. I really thought I'd be able to scrounge up a partner by now." She turned her face up to his, her eyes big and pleading.

"It's still not working." Luke reached around her and rung the doorbell.

"Man, you're mean," Lorelai pouted as she crossed her arms.

"I am not mean," he replied, "I'm just not dancing with you."

"Well that's mean," she protested.

Luke shook his head as the door opened to reveal Richard. "Good evening, Luke, Lorelai," he stood aside and gestured for them to enter the house.

"Hello, Richard," Luke replied politely as he removed his coat.

"Hi, Dad," Lorelai murmured glumly, as her father helped her off with her coat.

"Emily's in the living room," Richard said as he took both garments and handed them to the maid who had appeared quietly at his side.

Luke walked through into the next room. Lorelai started to follow, but her father took hold of her elbow and held her back. "I wanted to speak with you for a moment. How are the plans proceeding for your mother's party?" he asked in a hushed but excited whisper.

In the living room, Emily rose from the loveseat, placing her martini glass on the coffee table as Luke entered. "Hello, Luke."

"Good evening, Emily," he replied.

"Your usual?" she asked cheerily as she reached the drinks cart.

"Thank you," he answered, taking a seat on the couch.

Lorelai smiled at her father's enthusiasm and whispered. "Everything's good, Dad. The orchestra is booked, the invitations went out a few days ago…"

"I know. We've already started to get RSVPs at the office. Marjorie is keeping a list." He took a step to the side, pulling Lorelai with him and glanced furtively into the living room to make sure Emily wasn't looking to see where they were yet. "How should we coordinate the list? You'll need a count soon, won't you?"

"I'll call Marjorie next week and give her my email address. She can send me updates that way."

As Emily finished pouring the beer into a tall pilsner glass, she looked around for Lorelai. With a puzzled expression, she headed towards the foyer.

"Oh brilliant, your mother is going to be –" he abruptly broke off seeing Emily approach.

"Richard, Lorelai, what are you two whispering about out here?" Emily asked, a note irritation clear in her voice.

"Nothing, Dear," Richard answered quickly as he walked to his wife.

"We weren't whispering, Mom," Lorelai replied then with a quick glance at the beverage in her hand added, "So, Miller time?"

Richard chuckled and gently squeezed Emily's arm as he planted a quick kiss on her temple then continued on into the living room.

Emily gave Lorelai a quizzical yet reproaching look and shook her head.

"Martini, Lorelai?" he called out.

"Thanks, Dad," Lorelai answered taking a seat on the couch next to Luke.

Emily handed Luke his beer and resumed her place on the loveseat.

Richard poured Lorelai a drink from the pitcher of martinis he'd mixed earlier, and handed her the glass before taking a seat next to Emily.

Emily glanced between her husband and daughter as an uneasy quiet settled over the room then three voices spoke at once. Luke was the only one happy to sit back and remain quiet.

"So, Dad, how's bus – "

"Luke, tell me – "

"What were you – "

"Go ahead, Mom," Lorelai gestured to her mother.

"Yes, Emily, you go ahead," Richard agreed.

"What were you two talking abut in the foyer? Neither one of you answered me." She fixed each one of them with a determined stare in turn.

Richard turned toward his daughter, a desperate look on his face.

"Well, Dad was just asking me about the Inn, Right?" she signaled her father to join in the conversation. Anything would be better than him sitting there with his mouth gaping open like a fish out of water.

"You were asking Lorelai about the Inn?" Emily's voice was growing colder by the second. "I've been home for over an hour, you could have asked me about the Inn." She crossed her legs and leaned away from him. "Or were you asking her about me? That's it, isn't it? You weren't asking about the Inn at all. You wanted to know if I'm driving her crazy or running the place into the ground or something, right?"

"Now, Emily, that isn't it at all. I was at the Rosenblatt's party. I know you're doing a wonderful job at the Inn."

Emily shook her head and took a sip of her martini.

"Really, Mom, it wasn't anything like that. It was just small talk. Dad knows things are great at the Inn," Lorelai was trying to dig them out of the mess her fib had created as she again realized how colossally bad she was at lying to her mother. You'd think so many years of practice would make her better at it, but no, there was just something in her genetic code that made it physically impossible to come up with a good lie when her mother fixed her with that Emily Gilmore stare.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was telling Lorelai that I had a meeting with Norman Shields yesterday," Richard explained. "Trina was so taken with the Dragonfly she wants to have the engagement party for their son and his fiancée there. I would imagine you'll be getting a call from her next week."

Emily raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow at him incredulously, "You don't say."

"Dinner's ready," the maid announced from the doorway and Luke watched as both Richard and Lorelai breathed a visible sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Jennifer." Emily downed the remainder of her martini and placed the glass on the end table before rising and leading them all into the dining room.

* * *

"That was a great dinner, Mom, really top notch," Lorelai complimented her mother as the maid removed her plate. The tension had lessened during the meal, but it didn't hurt to keep the positive vibes flowing.

"Yes, Emily, everything was very good," Luke agreed.

"Thank you both," Emily acknowledged them each with a slightly wary smile.

"Yes, a wonderful meal indeed. I particularly enjoyed the roast," Richard added.

"Well, I know you're of the opinion that I serve too much fish, so I thought you'd enjoy something else on your first night home," Emily said dismissing his compliment.

Richard ignored her slightly derisive tone and replied sincerely, "I enjoyed it very much. Thank you."

Emily couldn't help smiling at her husband's words and expression. Her gaze briefly met his before dropping down to the bowl of sorbet and berries the maid placed in front of her.

"Mmm, this is good but I can't place the flavor of the sorbet," Lorelai commented before taking another bite of the deep red sorbet topped with mixed berries.

Luke swallowed his second bite and reached for his water glass. "I think it's a wine base. Not what I'd think of first as dessert, but it's very good."

"I believe you're right, Luke," Richard joined in the discussion happily. "A cabernet if I'm not mistaken. Isn't it, my Dear?"

Casting an admiring glance at her husband, Emily answered, "That's exactly right."

"So, I'm eating frozen wine?" Lorelai eyed her full spoon suspiciously and took a big sniff.

"Lorelai, don't smell your food," Emily chided.

Lorelai shrugged and ate the bite on her spoon. "What are we having next week, beer Slurpees? Screwdriver soufflé? Oh, maybe martini mousse."

"You know, those sound pretty good," Richard observed with a grin.

"Don't encourage her," Emily admonished between bites.

The strains of Abba's _Dancing Queen_ began to fill the momentarily quiet room. Emily quickly turned to Lorelai as she pulled the phone from the purse on the back of her chair. "I don't know how many times I've told you to turn that phone off during dinner."

"I know Mom, I'm sorry," Lorelai apologized as she stood up.

"…and must it play those horrid songs? Can't you choose something more appropriate?" she added.

"Well, we all can't have Vivaldi, Mom. How would we know whose phone is ringing?" quipped edging her way to the foyer.

"I tell her exactly the same thing at the diner. I hate those things," Luke grumbled.

"But it might be important," Lorelai continued, "I've still got a lot of feelers out about the marathon tomorrow, gotta keep my options open."

Emily rolled her eyes as her daughter left the room. "Is she still going on about that?" she asked with a look to Luke.

Luke nodded.

"Dance marathon?" Richard asked.

"I told you about it, don't you remember?" Emily asked.

Richard shook his head. "No."

Luke tried to explain. "It's this annual Stars Hollow event. It's become something of an obsession of hers to try to win it."

Lorelai rushed back into the room, "Luke, hurry up! Gotta go!" Quickly she grabbed the purse off the chair. "Sorry to eat and run."

Emily took hold of Lorelai's arm as she passed her chair. "Hold on just a moment. You can't just rush out of here like that. What's the matter? Is it Rory? The Inn?"

"It was Burton… Burton Laurentis… you remember the flower guy? Well he called to tell me that his partner Preston broke his ankle. Isn't that great? Anyway, he asked if I was still looking for a partner and I am, or I was, but now I'm not because Burton is going to be my partner!" she explained in a rush, joy emanating from her entire body.

"Lorelai, sit down. If you don't want yours, at least allow Luke to finish his dessert," Emily instructed. "Ten more minutes isn't going to make a difference."

Lorelai sat down with a huff and after a moment resumed eating her sorbet. "How lucky is it that Preston broke his ankle?" she asked excitedly. "Luke, you won't believe this Burton guy. He's a professional ballroom dancer. Kirk is goin' down!" She accented her statement by gesturing with her spoon splattering sorbet on the table cloth.

"Honestly Lorelai, how you can revel in someone else's misfortune like this is appalling. A broken ankle can be a very serious injury." Emily was horrified at her daughter's callousness.

"Well, I'm not reveling in his misfortune Mom, just in the part where I get a killer dance partner out of it," Lorelai reasoned defensively.

"I'm glad to see that fighting Gilmore spirit in you," Richard proudly declared. "With an attitude like that you're sure to win."

"Thanks, Dad," Lorelai said sweetly.

"I just don't see why everything has to be so competitive," Emily stated haughtily.

Richard laughed loudly. "You have got to be kidding."

"Well, it must be a Gilmore trait," Emily retorted as she reached for her wine glass.

"A competitive drive is definitely a Gilmore trait and one I'm very proud of, but our daughter comes by hers quite naturally from you as well as from me."

"Richard, really. I don't know where you get these things," Emily protested.

Lorelai leaned over the table towards Luke and whispered loudly, "This is going to be good."

Richard put his spoon down in his enthusiasm to contradict his wife. "This from the woman who took down Miranda Shaw in the finals of the mixed doubles match at the club."

"Oh, please, that was an accident," Emily argued.

"Ha!"

"Ooh, come on Dad, tell us what happened," Lorelai asked excitedly. "This sounds like a good story."

Richard focused his attention on his daughter. "We were playing the Shaws for the mixed doubles title at the club. Your mother played with a particular zeal that day, I might add," he chanced a sidelong at his wife, who was studiously ignoring him at the moment. "We'd won the first set 6-4, and were tied at 4 all in the second when she drilled the poor woman in the face with an overhead smash."

"Oh, my God!" Lorelai exclaimed, covering her mouth and looking at her mother.

Emily shrugged and spooned up more of her sorbet, "How was I to know the stupid woman was going to lunge for the baseline?"

"She broke her nose," Richard continued.

"Oh, my God!" Lorelai exclaimed again.

Richard continued, "Then the poor woman, now stumbling around in pain ,tripped over her dropped tennis racket and fractured her wrist."

"My mother, the terminator," Lorelai announced in awe.

"I can hardly be blamed for the air-head tripping over her own tennis racket," Emily replied.

"She was scarred for life. Never played tennis again," Richard proclaimed with delight.

"She wasn't very good to begin with," Emily commented with a shrug as she nonchalantly took another bite of her sorbet.

"She couldn't attend the U.S. Open anymore," Richard said with a chuckle then sobered, "and the resulting arguments with her husband Joseph over losing the title led to their eventual divorce."

Lorelai again turned to her mother. "You broke up a marriage with tennis. I'm impressed."

"Oh please, what kind of marriage hinges on a mixed doubles title? If that's all they had to hold them together, they shouldn't have married in the first place."

"And on that note…" Lorelai glanced at Luke. He nodded. "I think we'll call it a night."

Luke rose from his seat. "Thank you for a lovely dinner."

"Yeah, thanks for dinner, Mom." Lorelai rose and headed for the foyer followed by her parents, "and Dad, thanks for that oh so enlightening story. When I feel like I'm hitting the wall in the marathon tomorrow, I'll just think of Mom, and how lucky I am that she's not after that trophy too. I'd probably end up with a spiked heel in the back of my head."

Emily opened the door with one hand as the other came up to point ominously at her daughter. "If you don't watch it, little girl, you still might."

Lorelai put a protective hand over the back of her head and ran out the door.

"Good night," Luke said with a shake of his head as he walked through the door.

"Good night, Luke," Emily replied.

"Good night," Richard echoed just before his wife closed the door and turned to face him. "You know, it's been a while. We really should play tennis more often."

Emily tilted her head slightly to the side as she studied his expression for a moment, trying to read it. Finally agreeing, "Yes we should."

Richard watched as she walked passed him and started up the stairs. Her voice was low but he made out every word she said even though she was facing away from him. "I don't know which you like more, the tennis or the outfits."

"On you? The outfits. Definitely the outfits," he mumbled, his eyes glued to her legs as they disappeared up the stairs before he quickly followed her.

* * *

_Many, many thanks for the reviews. We love knowing that you guys are enjoying the story! Thanks to emily&richard4ever, Sandra, RiskaSG, Mary, LorLukealways, lilienprinzessin, PancakeSusi, swimmerluver, DieHardJavaJunkie14, and AletaII Anon!_

* * *


	7. I Have a Bad Feeling About This

**Chapter 7**

**_I Have a Bad Feeling About This_**

"You want a cup to go?" Luke asked, pouring the last of the pot into Lorelai's mug.

"No thanks," she sighed dejectedly, seated directly in front of him at the counter.

"I have paper cups …" he prodded her, the coffeepot perched in his hand as he waited for her to respond.

"No, I'm sure Andy made a pot at work," she stated, looking down at the black liquid in her mug.

"When has that ever stopped you from taking a mug to go too?" he quipped, hoping to make her smile. It didn't work and he frowned, out of ideas to cheer her up.

"I guess I should go," Lorelai spoke, still looking down.

In a frenzy, the door flew open and everyone's attention turned in that direction, the entire diner stopping to look at what had caused the distraction.

"All hail the champion!" Kirk announced in a loud voice. He held a large gold trophy in his hands and shoved it in the air above his head, holding it up proudly. He was still clad in the same skin-tight gold, red, and blue get-up that he'd worn the previous night. It was embellished with sequins and rhinestones across the chest and down the side of the legs.

A murmur could be heard in the diner as everyone turned back to what they'd been doing before Kirk had barged in.

"Oh God," Lorelai groaned as she noticed Kirk was heading her way.

"Hello Runner-up," he grinned, standing next to her, still clutching his trophy. "You left so fast last night that I didn't get to ask if you wanted to hold the trophy … you know, feel what victory would have been like …"

"No thanks, Kirk, I'm good," she smiled politely. "I should get back to work," she added, slowly pushing herself from the stool.

"You really should hold it," he insisted. "The weight of victory is a heavy burden. You are given the honor of such a prestigious title that is yours to safeguard for a whole year. That is quite an honor for one person to hold."

"It is just a dance marathon, Kirk," Luke spoke, wiping the counter as he eyed Kirk's outfit.

"Says he whose fiancé came in second place," Kirk grinned. "I really can't help that I am the most durable Stars Hollow resident. I mean … this is what? The fifth year in a row?"

"Seventh," Lorelai corrected him.

"Ah, yes, how could I forgot the first year that I kicked your butt?" he smiled smugly. "Good ole 2001."

"Hey!" Lorelai objected. "You won by default. And you only won last night by default too!"

"Sore losers," Kirk sighed, shaking his head. "It's so sad, Lorelai. You had a world-class dance partner and you still lost."

"I have to go to work," she stated, her annoyance with Kirk at an ever higher level than usual.

"I'm having extra copies of the trophy ceremony video made for Mother. If you want one too, just let me know!" Kirk called out as Lorelai walked to the door.

"That thing has to go outside," Luke stated.

"I am not putting my trophy outside," Kirk protested. "It is my duty to guard it for another year."

"Outside," Luke stated again. "I don't have liability insurance coverage to protect me if you maim someone with it or if a two year old loses an eye on one of those edges."

"You are just bitter because Lorelai didn't win," Kirk huffed. "You know … she might have actually won if you'd been there to step in when Burton left."

"I don't dance," Luke sighed, feeling as if he'd already said that to every Stars Hollow resident he'd ran into this morning who had offered him 'condolences' for Lorelai's loss. "Either leave the trophy at the door or go home, Kirk."

* * *

"Oh God," Lorelai groaned, bending down to open a cabinet in the kitchen. It hurt to bend her legs.

"What are you looking for?" Andy asked coming up behind her.

"Mugs …" Lorelai stated, remaining in a squatting position.

"Ah, we moved them last week," he informed her. "At forty-nine, bending down to pick up a mug every time someone asked for coffee was just wearing out my knees," he laughed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she agreed.

"Lorelai!" Emily stated, walking into the kitchen to find her daughter bent down in front of an open cupboard. "You're back."

Andy moved to the other cabinet and retrieved a coffee mug, returning to where Emily stood next to Lorelai.

"What is she doing?" she asked Andy as he held the mug out to Lorelai.

"I don't know," he stated, watching as she took it from him.

"Lorelai?" Emily asked.

"Uh … just looking at the cupboard," she muttered. "You guys are really organized. I didn't know we had so many extra sets of forks and knives," she noticed.

"Why are you looking in the cabinets?" Emily asked.

"I was looking for a coffee mug."

"Andy moved them to the other cabinet," Emily pointed.

"Yeah, so he told me," Lorelai replied.

"So …"

"So what?" Lorelai asked.

"I'd really prefer to speak to you face-to-face," Emily stated.

"You can see my face from down here," she noted, looking up at her mother with a forced smile.

"Will you just stand up?" Emily asked.

Lorelai frowned and made a pouting face. "I can't," she admitted.

"You can't stand up?"

"No," she stated in a pitiful tone of voice, trying to garner sympathy from her mother and Andy.

"Why not?" Emily asked.

"It hurts too much." Now Emily knew that she was clearly milking this for all it was worth.

"Lorelai," Emily sighed.

"I spent thirty-six hours dancing. I can't push myself up now. It requires too many muscles that no longer work."

Kindly, Andy bent down and helped her back to her feet. As soon as she was erect again, Lorelai leaned against the counter for support.

"Your dance marathon was this weekend?" Emily asked, though she knew the answer. Lorelai nodded. "I take it you didn't win," she noted.

"No," Lorelai pouted. "Kirk won … again," she huffed. "Seven years in a row … seven, Mother. Seven."

"I thought you had the perfect partner."

"I did. Everything was perfect. Burton and I were great together. We danced and danced and weren't even tired after twenty-four hours straight."

"So what happened?" Andy asked.

"Preston," Lorelai sighed. "He had a back spasm."

"He was there with Burton?" Emily asked.

"No, he was at home icing his ankle," Lorelai explained. "I guess he has a bad back too."

"So, what does his spasm have to do with you losing to competition?" Emily prodded, clearly needing more information.

Lorelai sighed. "Apparently the pain was too much for his pansy-ass to take and no one was there to go get his medicine from the bedroom. So, he tried to go upstairs and get it. Then somehow he managed to fall going up the stairs. He had a neighbor take him to the ER."

"That sounds serious," Emily noted.

"Yeah, I guess so," Lorelai huffed. "Burton had to go be with him before the surgery."

"Surgery" Emily asked, more alarmed.

Lorelai frowned and added, "Yeah, he apparently re-broke his already-broken ankle and the bone was sticking up out of the skin."

"A compound fracture, that's horrible," Andy spoke.

"Yeah, we were down to only two teams when Burton abandoned me."

"Lorelai!" Emily admonished her, clearly surprised by her daughter's brash behavior in regards to Preston's plight.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"The man's partner was going in for surgery. You can't fault him for that."

"Yes, I can," she sighed.

"Lorelai…" Emily prodded.

"Ok, fine, I can't. I just wanted to win once," she whined, pouting. "One time, Mom. Why is that so much to ask?"

"There is always next year," Emily reminded her.

"Thanks for the support," she groaned.

"What do you want me to say? Your partner was horribly selfish and you have every right to be upset with him for deserting you?"

"That would be nice," Lorelai smiled.

Emily rolled her eyes as Michel poked his head into the kitchen. "Lorelai, there is a phone call for you."

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Kirk," he informed her, pronouncing just his name with a tone of indignation. "He wants to know if you'd like him to bring the trophy by so you can rub it for good luck," Michel relayed the message.

"Tell him to drop dead," Lorelai groaned.

"It will be my pleasure," Michel smiled, returning to the front desk.

* * *

"_Rendez-vous dans une autre monde, rendez-vous dans une autre vie, quand les nuits seront_…" Michel sang, swaying slightly as he stood at the front desk, typing something into the computer.

"Michel…" Lorelai spoke, walking up behind him. "Michel!" she repeated louder when he didn't seem to hear her the first time.

"You bellowed?" he asked, a haughty tone commanding his voice.

"Why are you singing?" she asked.

"It is Céline Dion," he stated in an obvious tone of voice.

"That doesn't explain why you are singing," Lorelai continued.

"She is on tour." His answer was once again short and unsatisfying.

"Well … that's … great?"

"Great? Lorelai, it is fantastique," he emphasized. "She is only the greatest singer in the world."

"Uh … yeah, sure," she stammered, knowing it was probably best not to disagree. "Did you get that report finished?"

"What report?" Michel asked.

"The one I asked you to run this morning," she reminded him.

"You did not ask me to run a report this morning," Michel insisted.

"Yes, I did."

"No, you did not," he countered.

"Michel, I asked you not even an hour ago. You were singing that '_if I could reach higher'_ song from the Olympics…"

"Oh, yes," he admitted. "I remember now."

"Ok, so … the report?"

"It's not done," he announced.

"Michel…"

"I'm sorry. I got excited by Céline. Someone in the online fan club said that they think she may add another stop in Hartford at the end of her tour. That would mean she'd be back in April."

"Uhm, Michel … we need that report today," Lorelai insisted.

"All right, all right. It will get done," he sighed.

"Thank you," Lorelai sighed.

"_Terre … terre … c'etait certain_…" Michel began to sing again.

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai felt her cell phone vibrating against her leg and reached into her pocket to pull it out. "Aubrey," she smiled, putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Lorelai," she greeted. "I hope this isn't a bad time."

"No, of course not. What's up?"

"I was just calling to confirm for Friday. We have set-up scheduled for three o'clock. Someone will need to be there to tell our men where to go. Then the musicians will arrive around five o'clock to practice. You said that dinner would be provided for them, right?"

"That's right," Lorelai confirmed. "We'd be more than happy to take care of whatever they want."

"Wonderful," Aubrey chirped. "They'll start playing around seven and go until about ten."

"That sounds just perfect," Lorelai agreed. "We can't wait."

"Well, then, everything seems to be set."

"Thank you, Aubrey. We're looking forward to Friday."

Hanging up her phone, she slipped it back into her pocket and jumped when she looked up, finding her mother standing directly in front of her. "Mom, this has got to stop!" she breathed, holding her hand to her chest as if it could somehow slow down her erratic heartbeat.

"What has to stop, Lorelai?" Emily asked.

"You keep scaring the crap out of me!"

"I'm sorry, Lorelai. I didn't realize that my presence 'scares the crap out of you.'"

"Just don't … nevermind," she groaned.

"Who is Aubrey?" Emily asked.

"What?"

"The woman you were speaking with…" Emily prodded.

"Oh … that was…" Lorelai stammered.

"I ask because you were confirming plans for next Friday. I heard you talking about times. Miguel asked me earlier when he needs to be here. And Juan-Carlos and Marie also asked."

"That was Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer," Lorelai covered.

"Her name is Aubrey?"

"Uh … yeah."

"Lorelai," Emily sighed. "Am I ever going to actually meet this woman?"

"Of course you are," Lorelai insisted.

"So why is it that every time you are on the phone with her or she stops by to make plans, I've somehow just missed her by literally a few seconds? Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"Gee, Mom, you sound kind of paranoid," Lorelai noted casually.

"I am not paranoid, Lorelai. I just want to know why I have never met this woman," she snapped.

"I don't know why you haven't, Mom."

"_If I could reach higher … just for one moment touch the sky, just for one moment in my life … if I could reach_," Michel breezed by, still singing.

"How 'bout you reach for that report, Michel!" Lorelai barked.

"I'm on it," he stated, walking past her without stopping.

"Now, Michel! Imagine Céline Dion is asking for it."

"It will get done," he called back.

Gritting her teeth, Lorelai shook her head. "I swear to God if I hear one more Céline Dion song today…"

Emily smiled a bit, holding in a laugh. "She really is not that bad when she sings in French."

"Yeah, well, I've had my fill for a lifetime. He always gets like this about her."

"It's cute," Emily insisted.

"Just wait until he gets into the interpretive dance version of the theme from _Titanic_. That will come around noon."

"You are not serious."

"Oh no, it's just after _Because You Loved Me_ but right before _The Power of Love_. He acts that one out, too," she added.

"I don't believe you…"

"Just wait … you'll see…" Lorelai insisted.

Waving a file in his hands, Michel walked past Lorelai and back to the front desk, singing, "_If you asked me to, I just might give my heart, And stay here in your arms forever_."

Raising an eyebrow, Lorelai winked at her mother before turning and heading to her office.

* * *

"Luke!" Lorelai smiled, seeing him approaching the front desk at the inn. "What are you doing here?"

"Why do I always have to hunt you down?" he asked. "I mean, have you developed some sort of subconscious aversion to town meetings? Because the last time I checked, you were the one who liked going and I was the one who hated it."

"You are just a more astute citizen and leader in the business community," she insisted with a forced smile. "And you get all the news first because you and Taylor work side-by-side," she teased.

"You're not going to like this," Luke informed her, ignoring her comment.

"Like what?" she asked, worried by his tone.

"Taylor has called a special town meeting to start in twenty minutes," Luke informed her.

"Why won't I like that?" she inquired.

"He says that one of the main orders of business has to do with you," Luke added.

"With me?"

"Yep," he nodded. "And he's also demanding that you bring your mother."

"My mother?" Lorelai asked in surprise.

At that moment, Emily rounded the corner. "Hello, Luke," she greeted. "Did you need something, Lorelai?"

"No," Lorelai shook her head. "Luke was just telling me about a town meeting tonight. Apparently Taylor wants me to be there. He's asking that you come too but that's not necessary," she insisted.

"It's fine, Lorelai. I assured Taylor I would be there," Emily informed her.

"You what? When did you talk to Taylor?" Lorelai questioned her.

"He called just now," Emily stated.

"Just now?" Emily nodded. "Did he say what the meeting is about?"

"No. He just said that it involves town business and it is imperative that we both attend," she repeated from the previous conversation.

"I'm sure you don't have to go, Mom. I mean, these meetings are ridiculous, even laughable at times."

"It's fine, Lorelai," Emily smiled.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Luke added.

"Me too," Lorelai agreed.

"The man is harmless," Emily insisted.

"Yeah, that's what you think," Lorelai mused. "He's a crackpot."

"Well, I will admit that the reference he made at Rory's goodbye party to her being birthed by this town was rather disgusting."

"Exactly," Lorelai sighed.

* * *

"I think we should begin with our most serious order of business," Taylor announced. "I'm sure we all know the reason that this special meeting was called tonight."

"The maze?" Babette called out. "It's not that big a deal, Taylor. I mean, we didn't need a special meeting just for that…"

"No, this is more important than that," he insisted.

"The pipe leak at the Baptist church?" Kirk asked.

"No!" Taylor growled. "We are here to address Lorelai Gilmore's direct breach of a solemn promise she made to this very body just a few short months ago."

Lorelai lifted her head, surprised to be called out as everyone turned to look at her. "Wait … what? What did I do?" she asked, confused to why she was being singled out.

"Lorelai, we've discussed this before," Taylor reminded her.

"What are you talking about, Taylor?" she asked from her chair in the middle of the room.

"At the diner. I tried to discuss this with you but you were too busy. This is the only way I thought we could work it out."

"Work what out? What is there to work out?" she demanded.

"At our meeting on September 26 it was promised that if this body overlooked your violation of Stars Hollow Town Code Number 701-08, you would agree that Emily Gilmore, the new investor in the Dragonfly Inn, would remain a silent partner." Lorelai was silent as Taylor spoke. She shifted her eyes to the right, where her mother was seated next to her but didn't dare turn her head. "Do you deny that she is no longer a silent partner?" he directed her.

"No," Lorelai admitted quietly.

"I'm sorry, Lorelai, I can't hear you," Taylor insisted.

"No, I'm not denying it," she stated more loudly.

"Very well, then. You admit that you have violated our agreement. We cannot allow such a vagrant violation our of town ordinances to go unpunished," Taylor spoke. A few gasps were heard and everyone spoke to each other in hushed tones.

Lorelai finally turned to her mother who remained quiet and unmoving in her seat, watching the scene unfold before her. She seemed calm and collected.

It was silent for a moment before Mrs. Kim stood up. Everyone turned to look at her. "She brings business to this town, to all of us. My antique store is packed on weekends. All sorts of fancy women with their big checkbooks. I cannot agree to this resolution or any punishment," she insisted. "It is not right to punish Lorelai for doing something good for our town. Emily brings all of us business."

"I agree," Kirk piped in, standing up from his seat.

"What has she done for you, Kirk?" Patty asked.

"Well, I'm sure you all know that I've been going to school to get my real estate license. She set me up with a Remax guy in Hartford. He thinks we could open up an office here. Maybe not selling real estate in Stars Hollow but, you know, just bringing people through the town, doing closings here and that kind of thing … so they just get to see the town and want to come back."

"And," Patty added, looking to Taylor, "the enrollment in my classes has shot through the roof lately."

"That could be due to many factors," Taylor argued.

"And why do you suppose that twelve year olds who live in Hartford and are training for their debutante balls want to attend dance classes in Stars Hollow?" she asked.

"Well … I … I'm sure there are logical reasons," Taylor faltered.

"Yeah, she sent them," Gypsy chimed in, rising from heat seat in the back and motioning in Emily's direction. "She sent this couple to me like two weeks ago. They just needed a flat fixed. Well, they came back last week and need a whole new engine in the car."

"That's a one-time thing," Taylor insisted.

"Yeah, but they're also sending their friends. I go two calls just today from people in Hartford."

"So…" Taylor stammered.

"So, that was just today. I got two other calls yesterday. I've got a waiting list now. Usually when people want their car fixed and I say no, they just go away. These people are willing to wait for me."

"Oh, and the video store," Kirk added. "Our rentals have been through the roof."

"And what does that have to do with Emily?" Taylor asked.

"She told some group of old ladies about our classic film section. I always said we've got the best collection in Connecticut," he smiled boastfully. "They've come in three times this week alone."

"We have no information to prove that all of these … these coincidences are due directly to Mrs. Gilmore. What we do have is proof that an oral agreement made by this very council and Ms. Gilmore was breached. We were promised that the new investor in the Dragonfly would remain a silent partner."

"Shut up, Taylor," Luke groaned.

"Excuse me, Luke? I'm assuming your rather rude interruption means you'd like to say something…"

"This is ridiculous. She's clearly not hurting the town. Hell, even the diner is doing great. She's been sending all kinds of people to eat there. And we've all seen the boom in business at the Soda Shoppe. Even you are benefiting…"

"You know he's right," Patty agreed. "The Soda Shoppe has been rather busy lately. I've gone by every day this week and it has been packed. Last week the girls in my night class wanted some ice cream and we had to wait twenty minutes just to order."

"I have a new ad campaign," Taylor argued. "It's very innovative."

"Yeah, you use Emily as your advertiser," Patty cracked, causing the crowd to laugh.

"Order!" Taylor demanded. "This is a serious matter."

"Fine," Patty insisted. "Let's vote on it."

"Vote on what? We are dealing with a breach of oral argument."

"We're supposed to be a democratic body. Let's vote on if we want to pursue this breach you keep talking about."

"That is …. This is not in accord with the rules," Taylor insisted.

"Screw the rules!" Gypsy yelled.

"Yeah!" Kirk added, pumping his fist in the air.

"The rules are stupid," Babette chimed in.

"All those in favor of thanking Emily for her recommendations and forgetting about Lorelai's previous promise that she would remain a silent partner … say aye," Patty instructed.

The entire room responded. "Those against?" It was silent and everyone looked to Taylor.

"I didn't say I was against the woman. I was just following proper procedure," he insisted.

"Well, the motion passed. Let's move on," Patty suggested.

"Very well," Taylor conceded, "we should discuss the maze allocations. After the success of last year's Hay Bale Maze…"

As the meeting continued, Lorelai tapped her mother on the shoulder. "You want to get out of here?"

"Gladly," Emily agreed, reaching down to pick up her purse, her coat still folded across her lap.

"Sorry about that," Lorelai stated as they were walking away from the meeting hall.

"For what?" Emily asked. "It was rather nice to hear that not everyone in this town despises me."

"Why would you think they'd despise you?" Lorelai asked.

"Lorelai, this is your town. You came here and … well, I just don't know what these people must think of me," she stated, a bit uncomfortable by the topic of discussion.

Realizing that they were treading on thin ice and about to delve into a touchy subject, Lorelai moved the discussion to a safer realm. "Well, clearly, Mom, they seem to like you. Or at least they like all the business you bring them."

Emily smiled politely. "I suppose so."

"Even Luke stood up for you," Lorelai reminded her.

"Yes, he did," Emily noted. "Will you thank him for me?"

"Sure," Lorelai agreed as they reached Emily's car. "Are you going home?"

"Yes, your father is waiting for me. I didn't tell him that I'd be this late."

"Well, you didn't know about the meeting until the last minute. I'm sure he'll understand," Lorelai reasoned as they crossed the street to where her mother's car was parked.

"Do you need me to drive you home?" Emily asked.

"No, I'll wait for Luke," she insisted.

"Very well. Good night, Lorelai," Emily smiled, opening the door to the car and sliding into the driver's seat.

"Good night, Mom," Lorelai replied, watching as her mother drove off. She stood watching her car disappear, taking in all that had happened tonight. The people of Stars Hollow had stood up for her mother. They'd all somehow been affected by her. Turning on her heel, she shouldered her purse and headed back to the town meeting, smiling to herself as she thought that Taylor would probably be holding a vote over the height of corn stalks to be used in the maze.

* * *

"Yes, Jennifer, I'm sure. We will hold dinner until Mrs. Gilmore arrives," Richard stated, stalking through the dining room and into the foyer. He glanced at his watch and emitted a low growl. It was now a quarter to eight. Emily had assured him that she would be home for dinner tonight, a dinner that was to be served – as always – promptly at seven o'clock. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned and started back toward the dining room.

He'd read the evening paper, had a glass of scotch, and chalked her absence up to just running late for the first half hour. At seven thirty, he'd tried calling her cell, which had gone directly to voice mail, prompting him to begin worrying. Had something happened to her on the way home? Was something wrong with Lorelai? Pushing the more serious and frightening options to the back of his mind, he decided she had once again just disregarded any thought of him in favor of one of her other obligations. Maybe some perceived crisis at the Inn or a meeting of one of her myriad committees.

Out the window he saw a car's headlights momentarily illuminate the entryway and stopped his pacing directly across from the front door. The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard then her key in the lock before she herself appeared.

She was not at all surprised to find her husband waiting for her. "Richard, I'm sorry I'm late. I tried to call from the road but my phone was dead and I must have left the charger in Lorelai's car the other night. There was – "

He cut her off, his tone dry and clipped. "Oh, I'm sure whatever it was that kept you was of the utmost importance. It always is, isn't it?"

"Well if you'd let me explain," she insisted.

"There's no explanation necessary Emily. I see how things are…where I fit in on your list of priorities."

"My what?" she scoffed.

"I know how fond you are of your lists. You must have one: Lorelai, The Inn, the DAR, the Symphony League, the Women's League, The Horticultural Society, the Hospital Benefit Committee, the Arts Council… I know there are more, but they seem to have slipped my mind at the moment," his voice dripped with biting sarcasm." Tell me does your husband and your marriage come before or after the Friends of the Hartford Zoo?"

"You listen to me Richard Gilmore," Emily's voice dropped into a dangerously low register. "I've had just about enough of your childish complaints. I spent years coming in second or even third to your work, and even then not being treated as your partner here at home while you played Lord and Master, making all sorts of life-altering decisions without so much as a word to me. All I've done is been a bit busier than usual lately."

He laughed bitterly. "Busier than usual? Is that what you call it? You make it home for dinner two, perhaps three nights a week. There are days I don't see you at all because you've taken to scheduling breakfast meetings for your numerous committees. I see that they're still receiving your full commitment. Tell me…really… would the Symphony League cease to function if you weren't there to choose the color scheme for their annual Brunch of the Three Bs?"

"You know that my participation in the Symphony League involves much more than picking colors. It won't always be like this. Things will settle down," Emily reasoned.

"And what exactly is going to change Emily?" Richard demanded. "Are you going to stop working at the Dragonfly?"

"Certainly not," she replied quickly.

"Are you going to resign from any of your various committees, clubs, and organizations?" he questioned.

"No," she replied.

"Then I fail to see what's going to change," Richard observed flatly.

"Well, I don't know yet, but it will, I'm sure."

They stood silently staring at each other, clearly having come to an impasse. The maid cowered in the doorway of the dining room. Her voice barley loud enough to hear, "Would you like dinner served now, Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Yes, Jennifer, that would be fine, thank you," Emily answered.

* * *

The meal was a painfully quiet process, the only sound coming from the clicking of their cutlery against the china plates. As the fruit compote was served, Richard sighed and decided to try to break the stalemate. "Everything well at the Inn today?"

The effort behind his question wasn't lost on Emily. She attempted to answer politely in kind. "Yes, everything's going well?"

"Was there some other problem then?" he asked, still attempting a civil conversation.

"Well, it seemed there might be but everything turned out well in the end. You recall that fellow Taylor Doose?"

"Strange man," Richard nodded as her remembered the few times he met the man in question, a particularly disturbing child birth analogy leaping to mind.

"Well, he tried to create some problems at a town meeting tonight. It seems he was upset that I've taken an active role at the Inn."

"Emily, why didn't you tell me the man was causing problems for you?" he questioned, clearly upset. "I should have been there."

"Richard, calm down. Everything's fine. The rest of the townspeople wanted nothing to do with his tyrannical little proposal and voted him down."

"That's beside the point," Richard argued. "As your husband and Lorelai's father, I should have been informed that you were having difficulties. What if legal council had been necessary?"

"You're not a lawyer!" she countered, "and it only came up at the last minute. As a matter of fact, I was about to come home when we found out about the meeting. If there had been any problem as a result, I would have told you about it."

"Hmm," Richard grunted and spooned up some more of his fruit compote. "I still think I should have been informed," he muttered, then resumed eating his dessert.

Emily decided not to further acknowledge his sulking and put her spoon down, no longer interested in eating anything, instead reaching for her wine glass.

* * *

_Thanks to Sandra, LorLukealways, swimmerluver, DuckDuckLuke, Mary, B. Alex Milligan, and DieHardJavaJunkie14 for the reviews! As always, we greatly appreciate the time you guys take to tell us what you think!_


	8. Something’s Gotta Give

**Chapter 8**

_**Something's Gotta Give**_

Richard frowned and placed the insurance contract he'd been reading on his desk. He'd reread page 4, subsection 8, paragraph D at least three times, but it was no use; he just couldn't get the risk to premium numbers to make sense in his mind. On instinct, he reached for the phone and dialed.

"Hey, Dad," Lorelai answered, making a quick scan of the hallway and closing the door to her office. "Listen, I'm glad you called, I wanted to ask you about the menu for the party."

"Lorelai, I've been reconsidering this whole thing and I think perhaps we should call it off."

"What?" she exclaimed, the phone momentarily slipping from her hands. Catching it with her forearm against her stomach, she lifted it back up to her ear. "Dad, you can't."

"I think it's for the best," he replied resolutely. "I just don't know that now is the best time for a party." He removed his glasses and began twisting them in his hand.

"We can't just move Mom's birthday to a more convenient time, and the invitations are already out. How would it look to call it off now?"

"I'm sure you could think of some excuse," he reasoned.

"Me?" she demanded. "Dad, you can't do this. You know it would get back to Mom."

Richard sighed and dropped his glasses onto the desktop. "I suppose you're right."

"Yeah," Lorelai agreed quietly.

"It wouldn't do to call things off now that people have been invited, still…"

"Nope, wouldn't look right at all," Lorelai quickly reinforced. "We'll just have to go through with it. I'm sure everything will be fine, Dad."

Richard sighed again.

Not hearing any response, Lorelai prompted, "Dad?"

"Yes, Lorelai, go ahead with the plans. We'll just have to hope for the best."

Lorelai took a deep breath and tried to sound positive. "So, about that menu…"

"I don't know, Lorelai. Your mother usually handles those things."

"Well I can hardly ask her to plan the menu for her own surprise party," she argued.

"True," Richard agreed, putting his glasses back on and picking up the contract. "I'm confident you'll come up with something fabulous. I really must get back to work."

"Thanks for the help, Dad," she replied rolling her eyes.

"You're welcome," he answered already focusing on the contract and not the conversation. "Goodbye, Lorelai."

"Bye." She closed the phone and stared at it in disbelief. Was that really her voice that she'd just heard telling her father that something wouldn't look right? What was going on with her parents anyway? She wondered if they'd had a fight or something. Her mother had seemed like her usual upbeat self with the staff and guests today, perhaps a bit quieter than most days, but not upset or anything. Then again if Emily Gilmore was a master at anything, it was pretending things were okay, presenting the perfect image to the outside world when behind the façade it was all coming apart at the seams.

* * *

"Hello," Michel answered, slipping the cordless phone to his ear.

"I'm caullin' to confirm with a Ms. Gilmore," the caller spoke, his heavy northern accent making it almost impossible to understand him.

"Pardon me?" Michel asked.

The man on the phone repeated what he'd said before. "I'm caullin' to confirm with a Ms. Gilmore."

Michel still couldn't make out what was being said. "One more time?"

"I said, I'm caullin' to tauk to Ms. Gilmore," the man answered beginning to get frustrated.

"One moment," he instructed, pulling the phone from his ear and shoving it in Emily's direction. "They want a Gilmore."

"Who is it?" Emily asked.

"I don't know," he answered curtly.

Taking the phone with a sigh, Emily greeted the caller, "This is Emily Gilmore."

"Oh, I was caullin' for …"

"Lorelai?" Emily finished.

"Yeah," he replied shortly.

Emily shifted the phone in her hand, moving away from the music that was now coming from the speakers on the computer. It was hard enough to hear this man without Michel doing whatever it was that he was doing. "I can get her, if you'd like," she offered.

"No, ma'am. I'm just caullin' to confirm some details for next Friday," he stated.

"Well, I'd be glad to provide whatever assistance I can," Emily assured.

"I'm caullin' from Larry's Beef. We've got an order for the Gilmore party this Friday. My men are suppos'd to be deliverin' it today around 5pm. We got a big deal o'food and so we just wanna make sure someone is gonna be there, ya know? I know five o'clock is dinner time and the broad who ordered the food might notta realized that, you know."

"I'm sure that five o'clock is fine," Emily assured the man, jotting down a note on a piece of paper that rested near the phone. "The order will be delivered at five o'clock today for the Fritzen-Heimer party," she repeated, writing it down.

"The what?" the man asked, his confusion evident by his tone of voice.

"The party…" Emily repeated.

"Oh yeah, you said some kinda funky name," he laughed. "This is for the Gilmore party. Or at least that's what my papers say. I don't know what kinds of plans you people got there. I'm just makin' the delivery."

"All right, then," Emily spoke tentatively. "Is that all you need?"

"Yes, ma'am," he assured her. "We're good."

"Very well. Someone will be here to meet you this evening," she assured him before hanging up the phone.

Picking up the pad she had used, Emily looked at Michel for a moment, stopping in her tracks.

"_Tell him, tell him that the sun and moon, rise in his eyes, reach out to him, and whisper tender words so soft and sweet, hold him close to feel his heart beat, love will be the gift you give yourself_," he sang, swaying back and forth as he stood in front of the computer, typing away.

Unable to look at him any longer, Emily finally turned and walked away, moving quickly down the hallway.

* * *

"Hey, Mom," Lorelai greeted as she spotted her mother advancing down the hallway.

"Someone called from Larry's Beef," she informed Lorelai, stopping in the doorway to the small office. "They were confirming tonight's delivery."

"That's great. Andy will be here, so it'll be fine. They didn't have any problems or anything, did they?" she asked.

"No. They had the wrong name down, but that's just minor."

"The wrong name?" Lorelai asked.

"The man on the phone had no clue who Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer is but I suppose they just had everything under your name," Emily reasoned.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," Lorelai added, hoping she was playing it off casually. Emily didn't seem to be suspicious or notice that something was up, thankfully.

"Well, that was it," she stated, turning to walk away. As she was about to return to the front, she stopped and looked back at Lorelai. "You know … there is something off about this woman. Perhaps you don't see it but for some reason this party just strikes me as being very odd."

"Nothing is off, Mom. She's just a busy lady. Actually, she's really nice. You'd probably like her a lot. The two of you have quite a bit in common."

"We'll see, won't we?" Emily mused, finally turning around. "That is, if she actually shows up at her own party," she added, her back turned to Lorelai.

* * *

"I'm telling you, something is up," Lorelai insisted as Luke steered the jeep off the interstate.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" he asked.

"I'm not asking you to do anything, Luke. I'm just saying to see if you notice anything odd tonight," she shrugged.

"Your parents are always odd. How am I supposed to notice that something is different tonight?" he argued, puzzled.

Lorelai sighed, "Just pay attention to them. Something is up. I don't quite know what is going on but something is up. Mom has been acting really odd lately. And I know something happened the other day. Dad called and I had to talk him out of cancelling the party. He'd never do that for no reason. So, it has got to be something big."

"What could really be that big? I mean, it isn't like she has another man on the side and your father found out. These are your parents."

"Exactly," Lorelai agreed, "these are my parents. They have a routine and a set schedule. When something has messed up that schedule, they start acting odd."

"I just don't see why you are worrying about this," Luke stated.

"I …I…" Lorelai stammered. "The last time my parents were acting like this was when they were separated. And the fact that my Dad wanted to cancel the party means that whatever this is between them is not just nothing."

"Even if there is something going on between them, there's nothing you can do, you know that, right?" Luke turned onto a side road, switching on the high beams as he looked for the Gilmore driveway.

"I know. I just … oh, I don't know," she sighed as the car came to a stop in front of the house. "Just see if you notice anything out of the ordinary tonight," she instructed, getting out of the car.

"There would have to be something ordinary about them first," he mused to no one in particular, unbuckling his belt and pushing the car door open.

* * *

Lorelai glanced between her parents seated at either end of the dining room table. So far this had been the most uncomfortable Friday night dinner in months and it had nothing to do with her. Something was definitely going between them.

She tried again to fill the strained silence. "So, this is really great chicken, Mom. What's it called again?" Lorelai asked taking another bite.

"Chicken Marsala," Emily answered flatly with a sideways glance at her daughter. At first she was irritated by the question. Lorelai knew full well what Chicken Marsala was and she'd already asked that same question not ten minutes ago.

Lorelai looked imploringly across the table at Luke who raised his shoulders slightly, the barest expression of a shrug.

Realizing that Lorelai was just trying to make some sort of conversation, Emily gestured to her plate with her fork. "Normally it's served with rice, but I thought it would be nice to try it with pasta this time."

"Mmm… that's what's different," Lorelai replied happily. When another moment went by without anyone saying anything, she added, "The pasta is good with it, don't you think, Dad?"

Richard glanced up, clearly puzzled. "Hmmm?"

"The pasta, with the chicken," she explained. "It's a nice change isn't it?"

"Yes, quite," he agreed then returned his attention to meal.

Lorelai transferred her gaze back to her mother who was also closely examining the food on her plate. Looking back at Luke, she shot him a clear 'help me' expression.

Rolling his eyes, Luke turned to Richard and asked, "So, how's everything in the insurance world?"

"Fine, fine," Richard answered.

"Anything interesting happen lately, Dad?" Lorelai asked brightly. "Any cool dismemberments or maimings cost the company big bucks?"

Richard chuckled briefly while Emily quickly scolded, "Lorelai! We're eating."

"No, nothing recently," Richard answered, "just the usual fire damage and property loss." He took another bite of his chicken and then remembered. "You know, there was one interesting claim this month. A shipment of bananas destined for a cereal processing plant was hijacked by a Columbian drug cartel resulting in a production loss in excess of a million dollars."

"Wow, those are some expensive bananas," Lorelai said in awe.

"Indeed," Richard agreed with a nod. "Of course the underwriter took the brunt of it."

Luke commented, "I didn't know you could get insured against Columbian drug cartels."

"Well, it could hardly be classified an act of God," Richard explained.

"No. No, it couldn't," Lorelai agreed with an overly enthusiastic nod, but her relief was short lived when again the moments of silence stretched out tensely.

* * *

"Still think I'm reading too much into things?" she asked, the moment the front door closed.

"That was …" Luke began but couldn't think of a word to complete his thought.

"Yeah," Lorelai quickly agreed. "Something is up. They barely even looked at each other over dinner. And did you notice that they didn't actually speak to each other either? Dad was in his own world the whole time. And Mom just sat there staring at her food."

"Maybe they did have a fight," Luke suggested, opening the car door for Lorelai.

She waited to respond as he walked around the car and got in on the driver's side. "Maybe I should try and talk to Mom and see if everything is okay. What if something is wrong with one of them? You know, like medically or something. When Dad was sick, he was so difficult with her. What if something else is wrong and she's upset about how he's handling it?"

"Don't you think they'd tell you if something like that were wrong?" Luke asked, starting the car and shifting into reverse.

"I don't know. We have a nice habit in this family of shoving unpleasant things under the rug. Eventually it gets lumpy and you can't walk on the rug without noticing the bumps … but until then we just pretend that the ground isn't level and keep on walking."

"I don't know, Lorelai," Luke admitted. "Why don't you just wait and see how things play out? It might be nothing more than just some fight that is lingering between them."

"I guess," she agreed tentatively. "I don't know why I am so caught up on this. I just…" she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I've kinda gotten used to them, you know? This is going to sound stupid."

"What?" he asked.

Lorelai was silent for a moment. "I want us to be like that forty years from now."

"You want us to be like your parents?" he asked, having to hold onto the steering wheel a bit tighter to reign in his surprise.

"No," Lorelai corrected, "not like them like them but … they've had their ups and downs yet they've shared a lifetime together. And at the end of the day there is no one more perfect for my father than my mother. I want our kids to say that about us one day."

"Kids…" Luke lingered on the idea.

"You don't want them?" Lorelai asked.

"Oh, no, I do," he corrected himself. "I just … I hadn't really thought before about what it would be like that far into the future. It's a good thought," he added with a smile, glancing over at her.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed, smiling back at him as Luke reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

* * *

Emily closed the door behind Luke and Lorelai muttering, "Well, that was awkward," she was surprised to see that her husband had already walked away. At the sound of ice being dropped into a cut crystal glass, Emily sighed on her way into the living room.

Richard stood at the drink cart pouring scotch into his glass and saw the disapproving look Emily gave him. Instead of saying anything to her, he simply poured more scotch into the glass. "I'll be in the study," he announced on his way out of the room.

"Fine," Emily replied. She walked to the bottom of the stairs and as an afterthought called out, "I'll be upstairs."

"Fine," he answered tersely before closing the study door.

Emily gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists as she stalked up the stairs. This Mexican stand off of theirs was becoming ridiculous. Neither of them had acknowledged the fight since it took place. Her hope that after a few days things would just go back to normal clearly wasn't working and tonight the tension between them had made their dinner with Lorelai incredibly unpleasant. What did he want? She was home now and where was he? Holed up in his study.

* * *

_Many thanks to LorLukealways, Sandra, RiskaSG, Mary, Lilienprinzessin, and Tears4Chris for the reviews!_


	9. Tastings and Truces

**Chapter 9**

_**Tastings and Truces**_

Lorelai walked into the dining room and looked around in awe. The tables were beautifully set for the afternoon luncheon with rich copper-colored tablecloths, set off with beige cut work toppers, the centerpieces awash in the deep gold and orange blooms of fall. In the front of the room, a long table was set up with a speaker's podium and her mother was busy rearranging the flowers in the vases on the head table.

"Great job as usual, Mom," Lorelai greeted as she walked over to Emily. "I don't know how you constantly come up with all these different color schemes, especially on a Monday morning."

Emily cringed slightly at the last phrase but her back was to Lorelai, so she thought that it had gone unnoticed. "It's just different colors and pairings of linens with seasonal flowers. Everything else is the same as usual."

"Well, I think it's gorgeous and I'm sure the Connecticut Association of Small-Business Women will agree." Lorelai had noticed the uncommonly self-deprecating tone of her mother's voice and decided she needed to plunge ahead with her original reason for starting this conversation. "So, Mom…"

Emily paused and looked up from the flowers, turning around slightly. "Yes…"

"I just…" Lorelai stammered and looked down at her hands twisting nervously together, "well I just wanted to say… that… if you ever want to talk or anything…"

"Lorelai, is something the matter?" Emily asked.

"Yes… no..." Lorelai sputtered, "I don't know…"

"Lorelai, you're not making any sense," Emily's concern made her voice sound stern.

Finally frustrated with her fidgeting hands, Lorelai stuffed them in the pockets of her dress. "Nothing's wrong with me. I was just wondering if maybe there was…well, anything _you_'d like to talk about."

"There is something the matter," Emily countered. "I can tell when something is bothering you. What is it?"

Lorelai took a quick look around to make sure they were still alone, stepping closer to her. She knew her mother would never say anything in front of anyone else. "I was just…you've been acting kind of quiet the last few days and …"

"Quiet?" Emily asked puzzled.

"Well, yeah," Lorelai answered beginning to regret even starting this conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Emily turned back to the table and began working on the second flower arrangement.

Lorelai took a deep breath and decided to go for broke. Her words tumbled out in a rush. "Is everything okay with you and Dad?"

Emily's hand paused in midair, a deep orange tiger lily dripping water onto the floor. After a steeling, breath she resumed her arranging. "Everything's fine, Lorelai," she said in clipped tones.

"See, Mom, that's the thing. I can tell when something's bothering you and from what I saw Friday night at dinner, Dad isn't exactly Mr. Happy-go-lucky either."

"It's nothing," Emily replied, still not looking at her daughter. She was torn. Part of her was touched that her daughter seemed concerned about her, but the larger part refused to acknowledge to anyone that there was anything wrong. Because if there were, she'd have to deal with it instead of just hoping it would go away on its own.

Lorelai was frustrated with how this was going. She thought that maybe with working together and getting along lately they had made some headway. That maybe her mother might just treat her like an adult, an equal, but clearly that was not the case. "I don't understand why you can't just level with me."

Emily added the last two lilies to the arrangement and closed her eyes, her emotions at war within her. With a mental shake, she squared her shoulders and turned to her daughter, her face impassive. "Lorelai, I appreciate your concern, I do, but it's nothing. Really. Just one of the normal little bumps that married couples go through. No need to concern yourself over it."

Lorelai took a deep breath and tried counting to ten. The way her mother spoke to her made her feel like she was five years old again and being sent off to the kiddy table. Blowing the air out through her mouth, she forced herself to smile if only slightly. "If you say so."

"I do." Emily picked up the galvanized bucket that had held her flowers and walked out of the room.

* * *

Luke forcefully pressed the button to turn off the cordless phone and threw it down onto the table next to Lorelai's Hello Kitty notepad.

"That didn't sound good," Lorelai piped up tentatively, stepping out of the kitchen, a dish towel in her hands.

"It wasn't," Luke sighed, moving to the living room and plopping down on the couch. "The perfect way to end my Tuesday evening," he huffed sarcastically.

"What's wrong? Is April all right?" she asked, throwing the towel onto the coffee table and taking a seat next to Luke.

"She's fine," Luke assured her. "It's Anna that has the problem. The woman neglects to tell me for an entire decade that I've got a kid. Then when I finally find out, she moves her half way across the country. Holidays are the only time I get to see April. Anna gets to spend every day with her. I get, what, a couple weeks a year?" he sighed.

Lorelai pulled her legs up onto the couch, moving a few inches closer to Luke. "Is she giving you problems about Christmas and the wedding?"

"No, she can still come then. She just can't make it out for Thanksgiving. Anna's schedule is just too difficult to fit it in this year. It doesn't matter that we have a custody arrangement. No, I should just bend to her needs," he exaggerated.

"Luke, I'm so sorry," Lorelai purred, putting her arm around Luke neck. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I'll probably to wait until after Thanksgiving and then tell her that April is coming a week early for Christmas." He slowly ran his hand up and down her arm in a soothing pattern.

"That seems fair," Lorelai reasoned.

"Yeah," Luke huffed, "we'll see how that goes over."

"Hey, you have an agreement." She pulled back slightly to look up at him. "She can't keep April from you. Besides, I'm sure April is as upset as you are. I'd imagine she'll work on Anna, too."

"I just hate that she gets stuck in the middle of this. I can't help that Anna chose to move to New Mexico and take April with her. My life is here. I own a diner. It's not like I could pick up and follow her around the world."

"I know," Lorelai agreed, trying to be supportive and let him have his rather uncommon rant.

Luke sighed, rolling his neck around slowly in frustration. "Promise me you'll never move to New Mexico with our kids," he prompted her, trying to lighten the mood.

"New Mexico?" Lorelai frowned. "No way. California perhaps. Maybe Vegas. Washington state might be nice. And North Dakota is near Canada … so, lots of snow. However, I believe that I can promise I won't move the kids to New Mexico," she finally agreed.

"Very funny," Luke huffed before a smile flashed across his face. Lorelai smiled back, happy that at least he'd been receptive to her joking.

"It'll all be fine, Luke," she reassured him. "And if we have to, we'll just honeymoon in New Mexico."

"I thought we were planning a trip to some pretentious, over-rated Caribbean island…" he reminded her. "You've been bathing suit shopping for weeks now."

"We are," she stated, "but plans can be changed, if necessary."

"You're incredible. Do you know that?" he smiled.

"I am vaguely aware of it, yes. But reminding me often doesn't hurt either," she smiled back as he leaned in to kiss her.

* * *

Emily's eyes gleamed as she chewed and swallowed, a bright smile forming on her face. "Mmm… Andrew this dish is marvelous, absolutely marvelous. We'll definitely have to put it on the menu. The scallops simply melt in your mouth and you say this vegetable is okra?" she asked as she took another bite.

"Yes, ma'am," the tall, broad shouldered man beamed at her praise.

"I've never had okra before. I never dreamed it could taste so wonderful," Emily practically gushed, taking another bite.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. I'm pleased you like it so much. I value your opinion very highly" he replied.

"Andrew, I've told you before, please… call me Emily."

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm sorry, that's just not the way I was brought up."

"Well your mother is to be commended. It's rare to find such impeccable manners these days. I find it quite charming," she complimented.

"Thank you, ma'am, I'll be sure to tell her that." He looked down and noticed that the small serving he'd given her was gone. "Would you like some more?"

She shook her head and held one hand over her plate. "I'd love to, but I don't dare."

"Ah, Mother, just who I was looking for," Lorelai greeted as she entered the kitchen. Spying Emily perched on a tall stool next to one of the prep stations deep in conversation with Chef Andy, she was once again struck by how well her mother had integrated into the daily routine of the Inn.

"Lorelai, come here. You've got to try something," Emily called out, waving her daughter over. "Andrew, fix her a plate. You're not going to believe how wonderful this new dish is."

"Food?" Lorelai asked, her eyes lighting up. "Count me in!" She crossed the room and took the plate Chef Andy held out to her, examining it warily. "What is this?"

"Scallops, with sautéed onion and okra," he answered.

Lorelai stared at the dish a moment before taking an experimental bite of the scallop. "Mmm… the scallop is good."

"Try the okra too," Emily instructed.

Lorelai swallowed and took another bite, this time of the okra and onions, a surprised smile forming on her face as she chewed. "You're right, this is good. Definitely a keeper."

"Thank you, Miss Gilmore."

"Chef Andy, you are one-of-a-kind, my man." She turned to her mother, "Tall, good looking, oozes charming, and an amazing cook. I can't believe some woman hasn't snatched you up already."

"If you have any candidates, send 'em my way," he offered with a grin.

Lorelai saw the gleam immediately forming in her mother's eye. "You better watch out saying that in front of my mother," she warned. "You know the matchmaker in _Fiddler on the Roof_? Sure, she's American, protestant, and has way better legs, but still… trust me. You're looking at the original Yenta."

"Lorelai, what was it you wanted?" Emily tried steering the conversation back to safer ground.

"Hmm?" Lorelai gave her a quizzical look as she chewed.

"When you came in, you said you were looking for me. What did you want?" Emily asked again.

Lorelai hurriedly finished off her small plate of food. "Oh yeah. I wanted to talk to you about table settings for Friday."

"Okay…but I don't know why," Emily said with a shrug. "Does this Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer have anything in mind? I thought you said you had a meeting with her today."

"Well, she was just here, but she had to go. She said we should decide."

Emily practically jumped off her stool. "She was here and you didn't get me? You promised the next time she came in you'd let me meet this mystery woman."

Lorelai stepped backwards and held up her hands. "Whoa… take it easy Mom, you might sprain something. She was only here for a few minutes, and then she was called away."

"What does this woman do that she can never stay longer than two minutes?"

Lorelai thought a moment. "I don't know. It never came up." She leaned in close and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Maybe she's a spy? Or a mafia hit woman?"

"Oh you," Emily chided as she walked towards the dining room. "So what's the occasion for this party anyway? You never told me."

Lorelai followed her mother out of the kitchen. "Um… no occasion."

"No occasion?" Emily questioned incredulously.

"Nope. No occasion," Lorelai confirmed. "She just likes to throw parties for all her friends."

"Well, then I guess our choices are wide open," Emily replied.

"As wide as Texas," Lorelai answered with a grin. "We can do anything we want?"

Emily's expression brightened as she considered the possibilities.

* * *

"Chef Andy's all ready for the tasting," Lorelai announced as she entered the dining room. "Wow! Everything looks fantastic, Mom," Lorelai gushed looking over the three tablescape samples Emily had put together. They were all beautiful. One bright and airy with off white linens accented with all silver. The second was less formal, a dark green long tablecloth with a diagonal square of floral fabric over it, the centerpiece picking up all the autumnal flowers from the print. The third was the most elegant. It was midnight blue accented with crystal, the centerpiece deep blue irises. For a moment, she felt guilty putting her mother to all this for no reason, but if she was actually surprised on Friday it would all be worth it.

Her phone began to ring and Lorelai did a reasonably good job at looking shocked as she answered it. "Hello."

"Hey, it's me," Sookie replied on the other end. "Calling at precisely three thirty as instructed."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. I hope everything is okay," Lorelai said. "Do you want to reschedule?"

"Is she buying it?" Sookie asked curiously.

"Yes, you're right; there isn't much time," Lorelai continued. "The party is only two days away."

"This is so much fun," Sookie replied giddily. "I feel like James Bond, but Sean Connery, you know, or Pierce Brosnan maybe… just not Roger Moore."

"Well if you're sure?" Lorelai looked down at the table trying not to smile too much.

"Be sure to call me later, okay? I'm dying to know what she picks," Sookie explained.

"Okay? Well, I guess we'll see you Friday." Lorelai looked back at her mother who was now watching her closely, her arms crossed.

"Guess, I'm supposed to hang up now, right?" Sookie asked.

"Absolutely. Bye," Lorelai answered flipping the phone closed and dropping it into her pocket.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Let me guess…"

"That was Mrs. Hasenpfeffer," Lorelai explained. "She's not going to be able to make it to the tasting."

"Hasenpfeffer?" Emily questioned. "I thought it was Fritzen-Heimer?"

"Whoops, I… I was watching a Laverne & Shirley Marathon last night. Must have crept into the subconscious," Lorelai said with a shrug.

"Lorelai, what are you talking about?"

"You know…" she began to chant, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… schlemiel schlimazel … Hasenpfeffer Incorporated…dadah dadah da da…" Seeing the irritated look on her mother's face, she stopped. "Never mind."

"Well, what are we to do about the tasting and the tablescapes?" Emily asked, gesturing broadly to everything set up around her.

"Well, she said that it was up to us, so I say we go ahead with the tasting," Lorelai suggested smiling and trying to put a positive spin on things.

Emily shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. "I just don't understand this woman taking such little interest in her own party."

"It's not that she's not interested, Mom. She just got busier than she thought she would be these last few weeks," Lorelai defended.

"And how do you know this?" Emily demanded. "You don't even know what the woman does."

"Well, she _told_ me she was busy. It's none of my business why," Lorelai responded defensively. "Come on, let's pick a table setting. Which is your favorite?"

Emily looked between the three tables. "I don't even know what this party is for or how formal it's going to be."

"Oh, it's formal, black tie I think. She just said that in her last call," Lorelai answered.

"Well, if its black tie, the floral is definitely out. That's much too casual. I'd say the silver and white or the blue. You said she's had parties here before, what kind of taste does she have?"

"Good taste. I'd say she has good taste. She'd probably like what you like," Lorelai suggested, working hard not to blow her cover by laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "They're both pretty. Which one do you prefer?" Lorelai asked, coaxing her mother to reveal a favorite.

"Well, if it were me, I'd go with the blue. That way the focus is on the guests and not the table decorations."

Lorelai pulled out a chair at the blue themed table and gestured for her mother to sit down. "This is going to be fun. We get to relax and pretend we're the guests." She turned over her shoulder and called out to the waiter who was setting the rest of the room up for dinner. "Tony, why don't you bring out the salad choices." He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Placing her napkin on her lap, Emily shrugged and opened her leather folio, pulling out her list of the dishes to be sampled.

After tasting and choosing the appetizer, soup, salad, and dinner selections, they had moved on to dessert. Lorelai dabbed her mouth with her napkin and leaned back in her chair, a plate with four small pieces of cake in front of her. "Man these are all so good; I just can't pick a favorite. Can you?"

Emily swallowed her bite with a smile and nodded. "They are quite good. I've never had butter pecan cake before, but I'd worry about people with nut allergies."

"Eh…who cares? I'm not allergic to nuts. No one I know is allergic to nuts. I say if we want nuts, we have nuts."

Emily took another bite, this time of a different cake. "The lemon is quite good, too. Very moist and the citrus flavored custard is a very nice change from that sticky lemon jellied filling you usually see."

"What about the chocolate?" Lorelai asked taking another bit of that cake herself.

Emily dropped the hand holding her fork down, her wrist resting on the table and regarded her daughter sternly. "Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, don't think for a moment that I haven't noticed you've deftly steered me into making every decision."

"I have not," Lorelai argued her hand in front of her mouth and she finished chewing and swallowed. "It's just that everything's good. I like it all."

She pointed to Lorelai with her fork. "I just don't want to be blamed when your mysterious Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer doesn't like the choices I've made."

"You won't, Mom. I promise." Lorelai held her hand over her heart.

"We'll see." Emily rolled her eyes in disbelief and took another bite of cake.

* * *

Richard glanced over at the digital clock on his console before returning his eyes to the road. It was nearly ten o'clock and the water on the roads from the earlier rains left the pavement slick as he sped home. It had been a long day at the office. The morning meeting that was supposed to only take a half an hour at most had turned into at three hour ordeal. His lunch meeting had to be cancelled and his afternoon round of golf with a rather lucrative client was pushed to next week. He had been hoping to close the deal today during the game and to have the final paperwork done by next week. That clearly was not going to happen as planned. Now, as he neared his home, taking a hot shower and grabbing a bite to eat before bed were all he could think about.

He wondered if Emily would be home, trying to remember what she had said about her schedule for the day. If they had an event at the Inn, she would probably be home around eleven o'clock. If not, she would most likely be home by dinner. However, it was always a toss-up if she'd be home or not. He couldn't keep up with her schedule and the breakneck speed at which she and Lorelai operated.

Pulling into the driveway, the sight of her car was a pleasant surprise – as it was every time that he came home to find her already there. Perhaps tonight at least they would be able to spend some time together. It was the first night all week that she'd arrived home before him.

Entering the house, all was quiet and the staff was already gone for the evening. Richard made his way upstairs, figuring he'd hear the sound of the TV in the bedroom. Yet the upstairs was silent. He pushed the bedroom door open and stepped inside.

A smile immediately crossed his face as he spotted a tray at the foot of the bed. It held a slice of what appeared to be chocolate cake and two glasses of wine. Scanning up the bed, his gaze fell upon his wife, sound asleep. His grin quickly faded as his disappointment began to set in. At least she had tried to surprise him, he reasoned with himself. Yet once again she had been too tired. That was the story of their life lately – she was tired. He knew that she enjoyed working at the Inn and being around Lorelai yet he was starting to think that she cared more about her place at work with Lorelai than her place here at home with him.

Crossing over to the dressing room, he opted for a quick shower and changed into his night clothes. When he emerged from the dressing area, he had hoped to find Emily awake yet she was still asleep as she had been before. As he moved to the foot of the bed, he picked up one of the wine glasses and brought it to his lips.

Emily lay atop the covers, her body covered in a black silk nightgown and robe. It was one of his favorite gowns, causing him to smile. The rich material had a shimmery effect to it that caught the light of the moon that flowed in through the windows when the room was dark. She lay on her side with her left arm tucked beneath her head, her right arm lying across her stomach. Her legs were drawn up slightly in a fetal-like position.

Richard took a final sip of the wine and put the empty glass back on the tray. Hearing the clink of the glass against the metal, Emily stirred, her eyes opening. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't dreaming but had awoken.

Sitting up, she blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light and she tried to push away the fatigue. "Richard," she spoke, surprised to find him standing at the foot of the bed. "I must have fallen asleep," she surmised, sliding her bare feet to the floor and standing up to move to the end of the bed.

"It would seem so," Richard confirmed, looking down at her as she came to a stop in front of him.

Emily picked up on the slight tone of annoyance in his voice and his short answer. "I'm sorry," she offered, placing her hands against his chest.

"You've said that a lot lately," he noted, unmoving.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, taking a step back as her arms felt to her sides.

"It means exactly that, Emily. You seem to be short on time lately."

"We're not going to get into this again, are we?" she asked, her own tone of irritation now evident.

"What would be the point? You won't see my side of it," he defended himself.

"Your side of it?" she huffed. "You want to come home every day to a perfect little wife who is waiting anxiously at the door for you, who has dinner prepared just as you like it, who then makes you a nightcap, sits around watching you read the paper or a book all evening, and then either falls asleep next to you or rolls over and plays the role of a good little wife and lets you have your way."

Richard's eyes widened at her indirect accusation, struggling to find the words to express his disagreement. "Is it so much to ask that my wife make time for me?"

"You know, Richard, I waited for years for you to make time for me."

He groaned, rolling his eyes. "We're back to this again?"

"I'm sorry that you can't take hearing the truth," she snapped, "but that doesn't change history."

"Why is it so unfair that I want my wife to make time for me? You keep talking about how you wanted to spend time with me all these years. Well, here I am. Yet where are you?"

"I'm right here," she insisted.

His tone of voice was now much lower and less accusatory as he spoke, "Physically, yes. But mentally and emotionally you're miles away."

Emily opened her mouth to speak but she couldn't think of anything to say. He was right. He was absolutely right. All the time she had spent waiting for him to want to spend time with her instead of going to work and now here he was. And now she was the one who was too busy to make time for him.

Deciding to do what she did best and push their problems aside for one more night, she looked over at the piece of cake and the glass that was still filled with wine. "Are you hungry? I could find you something other than a piece of cake," she suggested.

Recognizing that she didn't want to fight any longer and that she really was trying, he decided to let go and meet her half way. "The cake looks wonderful," he smiled half-heartedly.

As Emily looked up at him attempting to make peace with her, she felt as if she could burst into tears. Yet she didn't. She wouldn't. Instead, she picked up the plate and a fork. "We had a tasting for an event this Friday. The cake was so decadent that I had to bring a piece home to you."

"Thank you," Richard smiled genuinely, taking the plate and fork from her, pleased that she really had tried to do something special – even if she had fallen asleep waiting for him to get home. "My, this is delicious," he agreed, taking another large bite of the cake.

Emily laughed at his reaction and smiled, her eyes sparkling as she watched him finish off the slice. As Richard reached for the second wine glass and took a sip to wash down the cake, Emily took a step closer to him. "You have chocolate on your lip," she laughed, reaching her fingers up to wipe it away. Richard caught her wrist in his hand, bending his head down to kiss her.

"It's much more enjoyable this way," he added seconds before kissing her.

Emily laughed once again as she felt Richard's free hand snaking its way behind her backto pull her closer to him.

* * *

_Many, many thanks to our cherished reviewers: RiskaSG, lillienprinzessin, swimmerluver, LorLukealways, Mary, Ann Y. Mous, DieHardJavaJunkie14, Myrandah, and Addicted to TV. We appreciate your comments!_


	10. The Prodigal Sister Returns

**Chapter 10**

**_The Prodigal Sister Returns_**

Lorelai walked into her office to find her mother sitting at the small desk, the floor plan for tomorrow night's party spread out before her. "Morning, Mom," she greeted as she leaned against the wall just inside the door and took a sip of coffee from the steaming mug she held with both hands. She watched the markings that her mother made on the paper, skillfully rearranging the order of the tables and relocating the serving stations to a more appropriate location near the kitchen.

"Good morning," Emily replied, only briefly looking up from what she was doing.

"Everything okay there?" Lorelai asked.

"Do you know the latest guest count?" Emily questioned, carefully going over the plan.

"146 was the last number I had. No one seems to be cancelling," Lorelai replied, taking a step over and sinking down into the guest chair on the other side of the desk. There was barely enough room in the cramped office to cross her legs.

"Well, we'll just have to find a way to squeeze in three more twelve-tops in place of tens. It may get a bit crowded along the sides," Emily noted, still focused on the floor plan.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Mom. There were almost that many people at the Rosenblatt's party."

Emily lifted a pencil out of the cup on the desk top and erased the "10" in the middle of three circles on the diagram and neatly replaced them with the number "12."

"So listen, Mom. There's a bit of a tradition here at the Dragonfly that I'm not sure you're aware of," Lorelai announced. She was about to set her coffee cup down on the desk but thought better of it since almost the entire surface was covered with her mother's plans, the dining room, the lobby areas, everything mapped out precisely. It was way more structured than she'd handled things before but it did seem to make set-up much easier and about three times faster.

Emily leaned back in the chair and looked at her daughter. "And what is that?"

"We're very big on birthdays around here," Lorelai explained with a smile. "As a matter of fact, we're of the opinion that they should be holidays, so no working on your birthday."

"I don't know… there's a lot to do for this party tomorrow night. Your father made plans for lunch and I know he has something up his sleeve for the evening. I was thinking I'd just come in for a while in the morning," Emily stated, a bit disappointed at the idea of not seeing Lorelai on her birthday. "I thought I could help you with any last minute things that come up for the party."

Lorelai shook her head. "We've got it covered. Seriously, if anyone around here deserves a day off it's you. Everything'll be fine for the party. Most of the set up is going on this afternoon anyway."

"Are you sure?" Emily questioned warily.

"Yeah, sure," Lorelai replied offhandedly. "Take the day off. Sleep in. Go have a pedicure. Do something just for you."

"Okay," Emily agreed reluctantly.

"Well, that's one person taken care of," Lorelai mumbled taking another sip of her coffee.

"What?"

"Nothing," Lorelai replied flatly.

"What's the matter?" Emily asked more seriously this time.

"Oh, it's Luke. Anna's being a real witch with a B about Thanksgiving. She won't let April come visit."

"It's really too bad she had to move away just as Luke was getting to know his daughter," Emily replied sympathetically.

"I think the timing is just a little too good myself. She just has to move to New Mexico less than a year after Luke finds out he's April's father," Lorelai shook her head. "It's not right. I never once kept Christopher away from Rory if he wanted to see her. He's the one that moved all over the country. We stayed right here in Connecticut."

"She's not causing any problems about the wedding, is she?"

"Not yet anyway," Lorelai grumbled.

"It's only another month until Christmas and she'll have more time off from school, won't she?" At Lorelai's nod, Emily continued, "Perhaps Luke will be able to arrange a longer visit for her then since she isn't being allowed to come now."

"Maybe," Lorelai lifted her mug to her mouth. When she saw that it was empty, she stood up. "I'm going for more coffee. Can I get you a cup?"

Emily rose too. "I'll go with you."

* * *

Lorelai looked down at her cell phone. It was nearly noon. Hope's plane was scheduled to arrive just before one. Looking around cautiously, she moved her hand over the mouse and clicked on the internet icon. Quickly typing in the address of the airline, she pulled up the screen to check arrival times. Everything was on schedule. She made a mental note to remember Gate B3

Hearing her mother and Michel approaching, she quickly closed the browser and returned to the occupancy report she had been reading before. "Hey guys," she smiled nonchalantly as they both looked up at her. Moving from the computer so that Michel could resume his post, she circled around the desk to stand next to her mother.

"So, everything seems fine here. I've got a few errands to run. I shouldn't be gone more than an hour or two," Lorelai announced.

"Where are you going?" Emily asked.

"To run errands," Lorelai repeated.

"Personal errands?" she questioned.

"Uh, Mom … that big, formal document that names me majority owner … that means I can go run personal errands if I need to do so."

"I'm not saying you can't do what you want, Lorelai. I'm only asking because we have that big party tomorrow and you've been so vague and given me such little information about it that I'm wondering if something happens while you are gone – what should we do? I can handle the floor plan and directing the set-up but I don't know much more about what is going on…"

"Michel can handle it all," Lorelai reassured her.

"You've given him all the details?" Emily asked suspiciously.

"He's been here for years. He knows how to take care of things if they come up at the last minute." Lorelai turned to look at Michel, who shot her a dirty look for involving him in her flimsy plan.

"Very well," Emily conceded. "I'll see you later, I suppose."

"Michel's got it covered, Mom," Lorelai promised before quickly making her way to her office to get her purse and get out of the Inn.

* * *

Emily smiled to herself as she found the Hammacher Schlemmer website on Google and clicked on the link. She was quite proud that she had remembered what Lorelai told her about using Google to find things. Now, if she could just find a gift for Richard. Yes Christmas was over a month away but by this point in the year she'd typically have had his presents hidden away for a month or more. This year she just couldn't seem to find the right thing. Maybe part of that was due to the fact that she was so much busier than other years, but she still didn't even have any good ideas.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Gilmore?" the short, brown-haired maid spoke quietly from the doorway.

"Yes, Heather," Emily replied looking up from the computer screen.

"Mrs. Wallace was asking about antique shops and I thought you might be able to suggest a few for her to visit this afternoon," she explained.

With a smile, Emily rose from behind the desk. "I'd be happy to."

Heather nodded and hurried off to finish her duties.

Striding toward the lobby, Emily smiled at Mrs. Wallace who stood near the foot of the stairs. "Enjoy your morning ride?" she asked.

"Oh yes, we had a great time," the tall blonde woman replied. "That Desdemona of yours is a doll and my daughter just fell in love with Clyde."

Emily's smile widened. "Yes, my daughter is fond of Clyde as well, though she claims not to have a favorite. I understand that you were interested in doing some antique shopping?"

"Well, Lorelai mentioned it yesterday, but when I tried speaking to your concierge about antique shops, well his accent seemed to get thicker and thicker – is that possible?" Mrs. Wallace asked tilting her head to the side quizzically.

Emily nodded, "Oh it's possible."

Mrs. Wallace shrugged. "Anyway, I asked Heather if she might know of anywhere to go and she suggested I speak to you."

"Well, you're in luck." Emily stepped behind the front counter and picked up a sheet of yellow paper. "We've recently compiled a list of the local shops. I'd suggest starting with the first three. They're all in Stars Hollow and you absolutely must go to Kim's Antiques if only for the experience. The woman that owns it is shrewd but if you know what you're doing and enjoy the process as much as I do, you're sure to get a fair deal. You'll find a map on the back," Emily explained turning the paper over and then handing it to her.

Mrs. Wallace's eyes gleamed. "It sounds like a challenge. I love a challenge."

Emily chuckled. "Well, you be sure to tell me how you faired when you get back."

"Absolutely," the woman answered with a conspiratorial grin.

Turning to go back to the office, Emily heard someone calling out to her. It was Joe, the young delivery boy from the linen and party rental service. "Hello, Joe. I didn't know your delivery was scheduled this afternoon."

He was a tall, strapping young man with deep brown hair and vivid blue eyes. His physical appearance as well as his proud carriage reminded her very much of a certain someone. He smiled down at her and removed a pen from the pocket of his deep blue coveralls. Yes he definitely had the same twinkle of mischief and intelligence in his eyes that she knew so well. "I think Lorelai wanted to make sure there weren't any problems and even if there were that there would be plenty of time to fix them before tomorrow. This must be a very important party you're having. Seems like there are more and more all the time."

"Well, you know the Dragonfly, one party after another," Emily quipped.

"Oh yeah, I know," he answered. "My girlfriend is jealous that I get to come out here all the time. She keeps threatening to hide in the van one of these days."

"Well, bring her along. She's welcome anytime," Emily offered. "You know what, bring her out for dinner."

Joe looked away and blushed shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. "No. No, I don't think we could do that, but maybe I will bring her out just to look around sometime, if that's okay."

"Nonsense, I insist," Emily argued. "I want you both to be our guests for dinner. You just call and make a reservation anytime you like."

"Wow, that's so nice of you, Mrs. Gilmore," he said excitedly, "Lori will freak."

Emily smiled indulgently and reached for his clipboard. "Did you need me to sign something?"

"Oh yeah, the delivery slip," he said looking down at the clipboard in his hand as though he forgot he was even holding it. He quickly handed her the clipboard and his pen.

"Has someone checked this for you yet?" she asked.

"No, ma'am. I couldn't find anyone but you," he answered.

"Well, if I'd known you were coming now…" Emily rolled her eyes and then looked around the lobby. Michel was supposed to be in charge of the party preparations and yet he was nowhere to be found. "Excuse me a moment." She started to walk towards the dining room then paused as an idea struck. She turned back to Joe. "Come with me. Let's get you a glass of iced tea or coffee or something. Perhaps Michel is in the kitchen."

Leading Joe into the kitchen and asking Manny to get him a snack while he waited, Emily then turned to Michel, who was indeed in the kitchen. She stood watching as he opened an envelope of powder and poured it into his bottled water and replaced the cap. He shook the bottle somehow shaking his entire body in the process, looking as though he were having some sort of spasm.

Examining the now electric pink colored liquid in the water bottle, Emily asked in disgust, "What on earth is that?"

"Ah this?" he asked holding up the bottle with a flourish. "This is my strawberry-flavored energy-boosting Crystal Light beverage. It is my afternoon pick-me-up. I have it every afternoon at precisely three o'clock."

"That's nice," Emily said in a flat voice, "but it's only one o'clock. Why are you having it now, and more importantly, why are you not overseeing the deliveries for the party which I didn't even know we were expecting this afternoon? Lorelai specifically told me that you were to be handling this."

Michel squared his shoulders and looked up at her, "Well I was tres fatigué so I thought perhaps my afternoon pick-me-up would help."

"What would help is if you would handle the deliveries for the Fritzen-Heimer party since you are the one who knows when they are scheduled." She held the clipboard out to him, "starting with the linens and tableware."

Michel took the clipboard and turned with a huff muttering as he walked out of the room. "Just takes off. Leaves me here to deal with delivery people, guests, stupid parties for people who don't even appreciate…"

With a smile she turned back to Joe, "I'm sorry; we seem to be a bit out of sorts today."

Joe held up his hand and smiled. "Hey, I'm getting paid to eat brownies right now. I'm good, and Dad won't mind if I'm a little late getting back seeing as how the Dragonfly is our best customer."

"Well, you just be sure you call for that reservation and I want to meet this Lori of yours. She's a very lucky young woman."

"Mrs. Gilmore," Chef Andy said stepping towards her, "You don't happen to know about the meat delivery do you? Lorelai never told me when to expect it."

She tried to smile politely, it wasn't his fault. "Well, join the club. I'm in the dark too. I suggest you ask Michel. He's supposed to know what's going on and when. I do know at one point it was to arrive at five o'clock, but everything else seems to be arriving earlier than usual so I'm not sure."

"Michel?" Chef Andy questioned clearly hoping he had heard wrong. Fortunately in his job he was the boss in the kitchen and that had little to do with the concierge's responsibilities.

"Yes, Lorelai has left him in charge of deliveries and party preparations," Emily explained.

Suddenly Andy remembered that this really was her party and she still didn't know. Deciding it best not to risk giving away the secret at this point, he realized he'd just have to figure out the times of his deliveries himself. "I'm sure you have more important things to do, Mrs. Gilmore. I'll just check with Michel."

"Thank you Andrew," Emily replied allowing him to walk her to the door of the kitchen when she realized that she didn't really have anything to do. With a shrug she headed back to the office to see if she could find any ideas for Richard's Christmas presents."

* * *

Lorelai stood at the arrivals gate, looking through the crowd of people that kept flowing through the main portal. She hadn't seen her aunt in a few years and hoped that they'd still recognize each other – though it surely wouldn't be hard to pick out a woman that looked almost exactly like her mother, yet not quite so severe and intimidating.

Within a few seconds, her face lit up as she locked eyes with her aunt. Rushing forward, the two women embraced joyfully.

"Oh my, Lorelai, let me look at you," Hope exclaimed, pulling back to take a better look at her niece. "You're so tall. You and your father just entirely eclipse your poor mother."

"I look the same as I always have," Lorelai insisted, "but look at you! I think I need to move to France!"

"Oh now," Hope shrugged, a little embarrassed by the attention.

"Seriously, how do you and Mom do it? The two of you never age!" Lorelai looked down at her aunt. She was a few inches shorter than her mother but she had the same face. Her blonde hair was swept back, held in place by a large clip; however, the sunlight that flooded in from the skylights made the brownish undertones of her hair color more readily apparent. She wore just a hint of make-up to cover the fine lines on her face.

The biggest difference between Hope and Emily was the way they dressed. Hope was much more of a free spirit. She was dressed in a dark-colored pair of jeans, a three-quarter length white oxford shirt that was unbuttoned partway down the neckline, and a red sweater was nonchalantly thrown over her shoulders. Her ballet flats were black with a red buckle across the toe, the perfect complement to her casual outfit.

"Stop making me self conscious and get me out of this airport," Hope insisted, taking Lorelai's arm and linking it with her own. "So, where are we going?" she asked.

"Well, I thought you might be hungry," Lorelai suggested. "Baggage claim is this way," she noted, leading her aunt around a corner.

"I'm starving. That food they feed you on the plane is just horrid," she sighed.

"And here I thought that they treated you like royalty up in first class," Lorelai teased.

"I didn't fly first class," Hope informed her. "When I changed flights to come out earlier, the only seat left was in coach."

"How horrid," Lorelai feigned. "My mother would be scandalized that her sister rode in coach."

"First class is overrated," Hope laughed. "Besides, if your mother knew some of the planes that I've flown on, she'd be surprised to know I'm still alive. When you work for UNICEF, they don't exactly have the money to fly you into a regional airport … let alone do they even have airports in some parts of sub-Saharan African."

"It is so cool that you and Uncle Gerard spent all those years in Africa," Lorelai gushed.

"Yes," Hope agreed. "Though I am glad we spent our final years together back in France."

"Well, we've got tons of time; you can tell me all about Africa and France tonight." Stopping at the conveyor belt to wait for Hope's bags, they gathered her things and headed out of the airport and to Stars Hollow.

* * *

"I just can't believe you live in this town," Hope exclaimed, unbuckling her seatbelt as the car came to a stop in front of the diner.

"It is a pretty cool place. I'll give you a tour tonight once we know Mom isn't in the area," Lorelai promised.

"That would be wonderful." Hope got out of the car and walked around it, looking up at the building in front of her. "This whole town just feels like something out of a fairy tale," she commented, taking in her surroundings.

"Yeah, well, just wait until you meet the people who live here," Lorelai noted with a laugh. Opening the door to the diner, Lorelai held it so that Hope could walk inside.

"Where should we sit?" Hope asked, looking around. The place was small but quaint. It felt like she'd been here a million times before and certainly not as if it were her first visit.

"How about here?" Lorelai suggested, motioning toward an empty table. "We can see out the window and watch the town as we eat."

"Perfect," Hope smiled.

As they sat down, Luke walked over with two menus in hand. "I wasn't sure if you'd want one, too, so I brought you both a menu," he explained to Lorelai. "Wouldn't want you to feel left out or anything."

Lorelai smiled up at him and then looked back at her aunt who was watching their exchange. "Aunt Hope, this is my fiancé Luke Danes," she introduced them. "Luke, this is my mother's sister Hope."

"It's very nice to meet you," Luke smiled. "Lorelai's been talking about your visit for days now. She said you worked for the United Nations and then you and your husband were both artists living in Paris. It sounds great."

"It's been a wonderful life," Hope confirmed. Leaning towards Lorelai, she grinned, "I like this man."

Lorelai smiled and looked up at Luke. "I'm kinda fond of him myself. I just don't tell him that too often or he'll get a big head and think that I'm with him for more than just the free coffee."

"Oh, I'm sure you pay for the coffee in one way or another," Hope teased, picking up her menu and opening it.

"I like her," Luke confirmed. "I'll come back for your orders in a few –" He looked out the window, suddenly stopping mid-sentence. "You've got to get her out of here," he demanded, grabbing the menu from Hope and pulling her from the chair by the elbow.

"Luke … what … Luke!" Lorelai exclaimed, confused by Luke's behavior.

"Your mother is about ten seconds away from walking in the diner," he informed them, still holding onto Hope's arm as they all looked to the window.

"What? No!" Lorelai sighed, her heart begging to beat faster.

"Come on," Luke insisted, leading Hope with him over to the counter. Her feet scrambled beneath her as she tried to keep up with his rapid pace. "Go up the stairs. Emily's never been up there before," he ordered, pushing her to the staircase, which she quickly ascended.

"She can't see me either," Lorelai realized, rushing across the room behind her aunt. Hope quickly climbed the stairs, Lorelai close behind her as Emily opened the door to the diner.

"Emily!" Luke exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, hello to you, too," Emily greeted him flatly.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm just not used to you coming in the diner. You know … it hasn't always been on the best terms."

"Yes," Emily agreed, "however, this time I come only with the most noble of intentions."

"What can I do for you?" Luke asked with a forced smile. The woman still intimidated him and scared him a little too much for his own comfort level, especially with Lorelai not present.

"Could we talk for a moment?" she asked.

"Aren't we talking now?"

"In private?" Emily added.

"Uh … there isn't much private room here…" he stammered.

"Very well," Emily huffed. "I just wanted to let you know that Richard I are planning our annual Christmas party for the middle of December, the weekend before Christmas."

"All right," Luke spoke tentatively.

"As Lorelai's fiancé, you're obviously invited."

"Okay…"

"However, I just wanted to make sure that you knew April is also invited. Seeing as you are marrying my daughter, that means April will also be joining our family. So, if she's in town that weekend, Richard and I would very much like for her to attend dinner with you and Lorelai."

"Her travel plans aren't yet certain but I'll be sure to remember that," he smiled, a bit taken aback by her uncommon behavior.

"Good. Richard seems to be quite taken with her," Emily smiled. "Well, I should be getting back to the Inn. I don't know where Lorelai's gotten off to this afternoon. She's been acting so strangely for the past few days," Emily commented. "Have you noticed anything unusual?"

"Uh… doesn't she always act strangely?" he covered.

Emily laughed lightly, "I suppose you're right. Good bye, Luke."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Gilmore," he repeated, watching as she turned and walked out the door.

A few seconds later, Lorelai's head popped out from around the corner. "Is the coast clear?"

"Yep," Luke confirmed.

Retreating down the stairs, Hope and Lorelai both breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was close," Lorelai breathed, crossing the diner. "And thanks for the strange comment," she added, looking at Luke. "Glad to know what you and my mother talk about behind my back."

"We weren't talking behind your back. You were listening from the stairs," Luke reminded her.

"You knew that but Mom didn't," she pouted playfully.

"You should get back to work," Hope insisted. "She's getting suspicious. And if I know my sister, she's not going to let it go."

"I can't just leave you here," Lorelai insisted.

"I can take her back to your place, if you want," Luke piped up. "Cesar's about to come in for the afternoon shift and things are pretty light around here until dinner. I don't mind taking her by the house."

"You're sure?" she looked to Luke for confirmation.

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"And that's okay with you?" she asked, turning to her aunt.

"Oh yes," Hope smiled, content with the opportunity to get to spend a little more time with her niece's future husband.

"Great!" Lorelai smiled at both of them. "I'll get back to work and hopefully rescue my mother and Andy from Michel's little power trip. He gets carried away when I leave him in charge," she added, reaching into her pocket for her keys. "See you guys later!" she exclaimed before hurrying out the door.

* * *

_Thanks to GilmoreFan, Ann Y. Mous, RiskaSG, Lillienprinzessin, Mary, LorLukealways, DieHardJavaJunkie14, and B. Alex Milligan for the reviews!!_


	11. A Rocky Surprise

**Chapter 11**

**_A Rocky Surprise_**

"So, did you grow up around here?" Hope asked, comfortably seated on the passenger side of Luke's truck.

"I did," he confirmed. "The diner is actually my father's old store."

"Well, what a nice way to keep the place in the family," she commented with a smile before turning her head to watch out the window.

"I thought so," Luke agreed. "It keeps his memory alive."

"So, how long have you been in love with my niece?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

"Excuse me?" Luke choked out, surprised by the unexpected question.

"She moved here when she was seventeen with a one year old child. This is a small town. You can't tell me that you didn't notice her the first day she arrived," Hope challenged him.

"I … well…" Luke stuttered.

Hope looked over at him, a smirk upon her face. "I thought so."

"You know, you're not what I was expecting," he stated, looking over at her.

"You mean I'm not quite like my sister," Hope clarified.

"Well…" Luke faltered, uncertain of how to proceed.

Hope laughed lightly. "Emily and I are very different people. She chose to get married and have a family. I fell in love with a man who supported himself by painting murals and playing jazz in little clubs around Paris and then spent twenty years with him feeding starving children in Africa. Our lives somehow took very divergent paths after college. Yet we always managed to stay close though we lived so far away."

"It sounds like it," Luke spoke, turning the truck onto Lorelai's street.

"Emily is just a little more reserved than I am," Hope noted. "But once you get the chance to really know her … once she lets you get the chance to know her, that is, you can't help but love her." Luke remained silent, which Hope picked up on. "I don't know what Lorelai has told you over the years but surely you are intimately aware of their history." Luke nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "The one thing that my niece has never been able to understand is that the only thing Emily wants is to be part of her life."

"They seem to be getting closer these past few months," Luke commented.

"Yes, they do," Hope smiled.

"Lorelai said you lived in South Africa during the end of apartheid and the whole truth and reconciliation thing," Luke prompted her, deciding to change the subject.

"We did," she confirmed.

"You ever get to meet Mandela?" he asked.

* * *

fEmily looked down at the phone in her hands. It was 6:15. Richard had said he'd be home an hour ago. In fact, she had specifically asked him if he would be home and he had promised he'd be there. They were supposed to have dinner with friends from the DAR. It would be the first time in weeks that they'd gone out to an event as a couple. How many times had he said that he just wanted to spend time with her? So, she had promised to be home no matter what. And now here she was; but where is he? Nowhere. And of course he wasn't answering his cell phone. She had been trying it for the past half hour. She was already dressed in her black pantsuit, her heels clicking on the floor as she paced around the foyer.f

She had told the Sudburys they would arrived around seven. It wasn't a formal dinner by any means. In fact, she had only planned to make Richard stay for an hour or so, making a polite appearance. After that, she had even had the idea of perhaps watching a movie after dinner. TCM was playing a marathon of classic 1940s detective movies and she knew how he loved the filmmaking of that area. However, as annoyed as she had become by his inexplicable absence – a movie night no longer felt like an appealing idea.

Now she was annoyed. Trying his cell phone once again, it went straight to voicemail. Hanging up in a huff, Emily dialed the number to Richard's office. However, the call only made her angrier. He had left more than an hour ago, according to his secretary. Debating the idea in her mind, she wondered if he was doing this on purpose. Was he deliberately making her wait on him? Would he behave that childishly, she wondered, fingering the pearl necklace that lay against her neck.

Striding into the living room, she looked at the clock across the room. It was now two minutes later than the last time she had tried to call him.

* * *

As Richard approached the front porch of Lorelai's house, he could hear raucous laughter coming from inside. Raising his hand to knock, the laughing got louder as he heard his daughter making her way to the door.

"Dad!" she exclaimed, surprised to see him.

"Hello, Lorelai," he greeted her. "I would ask if your aunt arrived safely but I can already gather an answer from the sound of her laughter the background."

"Hello, Richard," Hope called out, the sound of her voice immediately bringing a smile to his face.

Stepping into the living room, his smile grew wider at the sight of his sister-in-law. She was an exact replica of his wife in nearly all respects. However, she was much more casual and laidback. And she was a good few inches shorter. However, the mysterious sparkle in her eyes was a sight that he'd grown all too familiar with over the past forty years.

"Are you going to hug me or do I have to borrow a chair from Lorelai and come up to your level?" she teased as Richard crossed over to her and greeted her warmly. "I always feel so short around the three of you," she lamented.

"You look amazing," Richard complimented her, kissing her cheek before pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Hope was just telling me about the time when you guys got arrested at a nudist beach in Mazatlan," Lorelai explained.

"Oh, Hope, you are going to give this girl the wrong impression of her mother and I," Richard warned, his arm draped across her shoulders.

"And what would that impression be, Dad?" Lorelai grinned. "That you and Mom like to walk around without your clothes on while in foreign countries?"

"We were clothed the entire time," Richard defended himself with a chuckle as he looked down at Hope. "And we did not get arrested. They just held us for questioning," he clarified.

Hope smiled in reply. "I'm not telling her anything that isn't true," she defended right back.

"I've yet to hear how you guys got out of this one," Lorelai prodded.

"Your mother bribed an official," Richard explained nonchalantly, his arm still around his sister-in-law.

"She what!?" Lorelai exclaimed.

"This was, of course, after Gerard and I had been trying to persuade the man to let us go for half an hour. Your mother pulled some money from inside in her blouse or something and we were all free to go," Hope finished the story with a smile. "No questions asked."

"That is still not as bad as the time we were held at the Ecuadorian border after trying to cross over from Peru," Richard argued.

"I was afraid we'd never get back home. But Emily got us out of that one, too," Hope reminded him.

"I didn't even know she knew Spanish," Richard remembered. "And how she knew the Ambassador is beyond me."

"She apparently dated his son in college before you two met," Hope informed him." My sister is always full of surprises."

"I'll say," Richard agreed with a laugh.

"Ecuadorian border? Ambassador?" Lorelai interjected, looking between them for further elaboration on the stories.

"It's a long story," Richard explained, still chuckling.

"I've got time," Lorelai argued, not wanting to be left out.

At that moment, Richard's cell phone began to ring. Pulling it from his pocket, he looked down at the number. "It's Emily," he explained. Walking into the kitchen and away from the girls, he pressed the button to accept the call. "Hello, Dear."

"It is six thirty, Richard. I have been calling your cell phone for half an hour. I called the office. They said you left over an hour ago. Where are you?" she demanded.

"I've had a lovely day, thank you for asking," he deadpanned.

"Richard," she sighed, annoyed by his tone of voice.

"I had a few errands to run. I'll be home soon," he explained.

"Where are you?" she asked again.

"I'll be home soon," he insisted. At that moment, a loud noise came from the other room and the sound of Lorelai and Hope's laughter could be heard even by Emily.

"What was that?" Emily asked.

"Nothing," he fumbled, trying to move further into the kitchen and away from the living room.

"It most certainly didn't sound like nothing," Emily persisted.

"It was just the radio," he fibbed, trying to cover his tracks.

"You're in the car?" she asked.

"Year, Dear. I told you that I'm on my way home."

"You did not say that," she clarified.

"Well, I'm saying it now." It was getting harder to evade her.

"Good. When will you be here?" Emily asked.

"I don't know the exact time, Emily. If you'd like, I could call you at ten minute intervals and let you know my exact locations. Or perhaps you could find a way to log into the GPS system on my car and just track me the whole way home."

"Don't be ridiculous," she huffed.

"I will be home soon, Emily," he repeated.

"Well, don't waste any more time. We have that dinner with the Sudburys tonight," she reminded him.

"I thought it was cancelled," he argued.

Emily sighed. "I told you last night, Richard. The Robisons cancelled; we still have plans with the Sudburys."

"I'll be home as soon as I can," he promised.

"Fine. I'll have your suit laid out when you get here."

"Thank you, Dear." Bidding her goodbye, he ended the call and slipped the phone back in his breast pocket as he returned to the living room.

"Sorry about that, Dad," Lorelai laughed, looking over at her aunt who looked just as guilty. "We were trying to see how the couch would look on the other side of the room."

"It wouldn't budge … but we did learn that the coffee table will break if both of us try to sit on it at the same time," Hope piped up as Lorelai giggled.

"Emily is expecting me at the house. I should go," Richard explained. "I'll see you both tomorrow?"

"You bet," Lorelai agreed. "Well, that is unless we decide to blow this town and hitchhike to Canada. Aunt Hope does speak French, after all."

"Tomorrow," Richard stated sternly.

"Yes, Father," Hope uttered, causing Richard to smile.

"I'll show myself out. Just try not to break any more furniture," he suggested, heading for the door.

As soon as it closed, Lorelai and Hope began laughing again. "What do you think of take-out?" Lorelai asked.

"I think it is a wonderful idea …. That is, if you don't want to drive to Madison and take the midnight ferry to Surf Club Beach for one of their famous hotdogs," she grinned. "Then we could go to the Blackhorse Tavern in Old Saybrook. Maybe even get some scallops in Niantic… Though if you want take-out, that's fine too," she smiled with a shrug.

"You know," Lorelai thought for a moment, "I think you may just be the most amazing person I've ever met."

"That means you want to go?" Hope prodded.

"I'll go get my coat!" she declared, rushing upstairs.

"Maybe over dinner I'll tell you the story about your mother breaking into a farm just outside of New Britain and freeing all the animals," she called after Lorelai.

* * *

Hanging up the phone, Emily was more annoyed than she had been before. He had been very short with her, refusing to give her any information about his whereabouts or when he would be home. Looking up at the clock, she placed the phone onto the coffee table and marched into the foyer.

She called out for the maid, walking over to the desk next to the staircase.

The young woman came scurrying into the foyer. "Yes, Mrs. Gilmore?" she asked meekly.

"You and the cook may go home,"f she informed her, her back to the maid as she retrieved her purse from the top of the desk and dug through it for her keys. "If you are still here when Mr. Gilmore gets home, you can tell him that I've already left. If not, he'll figure it out on his own."

"Thank you, ma'am," the girl replied before hurrying off.

Throwing her purse over her arm, Emily determinedly headed out to her car. She was in no mood to wait any longer for her husband. He could just meet her there.

* * *

Richard followed Emily into the house, watching as she dropped her keys into her purse. She headed straight for the stairs, not bothering to say a word as he closed the door and locked it behind them. She'd been absolutely charming at the Sudburys; he was positive that they hadn't noticed a thing, but he could tell by the way she looked at him whenever he caught her eye that she was still angry.

She was already turning on the landing and about to ascend the second set of stairs when he crossed the foyer. And by the time he made it to their bedroom, she was in the dressing area, hanging her suit jacket on a padded hanger.

He moved his hand to the button of his own jacket, releasing it slowly as he watched Emily's movements. Her back was to him and he watched from the corner of his eye as she removed her blouse. She next slid the high heeled shoes from her feet, leaving them next to the lounge in the middle of the dressing area instead of taking them to their allotted place. Clad in only her bra and skirt, Richard was still observing her as she moved to a drawer and removed an opal-colored set of pajamas before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

It only took him a few moments to change from his suit into one of the velour track suits that he had left from his recovery. They were not anything he'd wear outside of the house but they were certainly comfortable enough to wear around before bedtime. Running his hands over the velour, he smiled. They were indeed very comfortable.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Emily stepped out, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "Where did you find that?" she asked.

"What?"

"That … that…" Emily motioned towards him with her hand.

"Oh, the tracksuit?" Richard asked, looking down at himself, his hands resting against his stomach.

"I thought we agreed to get rid of them," she cautioned, her skirt in her hands as she walked over to where she had hung up the jacket and reached for a hanfger.

"You tried to donate them but I managed to rescue this one," Richard smilfed.

"Rescue it," Emily huffed. "It's more like you saved some poor bum from being forced to wear the atrocious thing to keep warm."

"It is very comfortable," Richard defended.

"I'm sure," Emily stated, rolling her eyes as she placed the skirt in its assigned spot on the row of clothing.

"Why are you in your pajamas?" Richard asked, taking a step closer to her.

"I'm going to bed," she responded, turning her head to look at him.

"It isn't even ten o'clock yet," Richard argued.

"It's been a long day and I'm tired," she answered simply, walking away and into the bedroom.

"You're always tired," Richard mumbled low enough that she didn't hear him as he followed her, turning out the closet light. "I'll go watch television in the den, then," he suggested. "Or perhaps do a little work in my study. I'm not ready for bed yet."

"Well, when you are, change your clothes first," Emily instructed him, crossing over to her side of the bed and pulling the covers back.

Richard moved a few steps closer to her. "I will, my dear," he smiled, bending down to kiss her as she sat on the bed and pulled her legs up.

"Don't," she insisted, holding her hand out.

"Why not?" Richard asked, confused by her behavior, his hand resting against his stomach as he enjoyed the feel of the velour under his fingertips.

"What did I tell you about wearing velour?" she reminded him.

"Emily," Richard sighed, "you can't be serious."

"I most certainly am," she defended. "If you intend to ever touch me again, then I'd suggest you not be wearing that horrid material." She shifted around, fluffing her pillow a bit before pulling the covers up to her waist. "And constantly rubbing your hands over it does not help," she added.

"It's comfortable," Richard argued.

"Well, it isn't attractive," Emily stated plainly.

"So I'm not allowed to kiss you good night?" he asked.

"Not while wearing velour, no," she confirmed.

Richard huffed, shaking his head and fighting back a chuckle.

"Could you turn off the light on your way out?" she asked.

"Of course," Richard responded, moving to stand in the doorway. "Good night," he spoke as he turned off the overhead light.

* * *

Richard opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at his wife. He had to be certain she was sound asleep before he got up. Otherwise, she'd wake up and ruin his plans. Looking over at her, he lifted his head to examine her breathing. She seemed to be asleep. Carefully extricating himself from beneath the blankets and circling the bed, he made his way over to the desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the main drawer open slowly, looking over his shoulder to be certain Emily was still asleep. Retrieving a long black box and a matching smaller one, he pushed the drawer closed and looked towards his wife once again.

Crossing the room to Emily's side of the bed, he opened the longer box and removed the diamond bracelet from inside. Luckily, Emily's hand rested on her pillow, next to her face, her wrist lying limply against the curve of the pillow. Dangling the bracelet over her wrist ever so carefully, he laid it in place and loosely fastened the clasp partially, though he couldn't hook the double clasp completely without waking her up.

Glancing up at the clock, he noted that there were still a few minutes left. Smiling as he looked down at her, he quietly returned to his side of the bed and carefully slipped back under the covers.

Watching as the time passed slowly, he smiled when the display finally showed it was midnight. Shifting his body, he moved closer to his wife and slid his arm around her waist. He drew her to him and she moaned at the feel of his body against hers.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered, his lips brushing over her ear.

The husky tone of his voice awakened her body and she finally opened her eyes, leaning back into him. "What time is it?" she asked, wondering if it could be morning already.

"About one minute past midnight," he answered.

Emily moaned, feeling Richard's arms around her body. Placing her hands over his, she didn't seem to notice the extra weight on her right wrist. "You woke me up at midnight to wish me a happy birthday?" she asked.

"You don't seem very impressed," he teased her.

"Oh, I am, I am," she replied, still trying to wake up. "You've just never done that before."

"I could make it a new tradition," Richard suggested, kissing her neck as she relaxed against him.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, she caught the sight of something sparkling in the light as she lifted her hand. "What … Richard," she whispered, finally noticing the bracelet that adorned her arm. Removing herself from his embrace and sitting up, she examined the piece of jewelry. "It's gorgeous," she spoke, holding up her arm to look at the bracelet elegantly reflecting the moonlight that crept in from the window.

Richard kissed her shoulder as he sat next to her, watching her delighted expression. "Happy Birthday, Emily."

Turning her head to look at him, she leaned closer into him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you," she smiled. "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," he beamed, wondering how he could have at one point been so angry with her that he'd considered cancelling the party and returning her gift. Sitting here in the darkened room with only the moonlight and the two of them, it all seemed so simple. It didn't feel as complicated as it had earlier. This was his turn. His turn to be the one to stand behind her. She was right about all the things she'd said, about the years she'd spent doing everything he wanted her to do. Her work, the Inn, it was all important to her. How could he not have seen how simple it really was? All she wanted was to be part of Lorelai's life. That was it. And yet he'd done nothing but give her a hard time for not being there for him twenty-four hours a day, as he had previously been accustomed.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, a bit uncomfortable with his behavior.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" he stated, reaching his hand out to brush his thumb over her cheek before resting his hand behind her neck.

"Oh, please," she sighed, looking away from him.

"I'm serious," he asserted, his hand moving to cup her face.

"You know, sometimes I actually believe the things you say," she laughed.

"Well, believe me when I say that you are the most stunning woman I've ever met." He learned forward slightly, his lips brushing over hers. "The most amazing woman," he added, moving to kiss the side of her mouth. "Someone who can still excite me more and more every day, even after so many years have passed." Emily's eyes slid shut as his kisses moved to her neck, her head falling back as he filled her senses.

Gently laying her on her back, she opened her eyes as Richard's hand expertly slid down the buttons of her pajama top. "You know, I have one more surprise," he informed her, reaching the final button and sliding his fingers across her exposed flesh.

"And what exactly would this surprise entail?" she choked out, her arms circling around him as he shifted his body to lie atop of her.

"You'll just have to wait and find out," he teased, eliciting a throaty moan as his hands brushed over her skin.

* * *

_**Notes:**_ Thank you very much to everyone who has left comments and reviews since our last update: Ann Y. Mous, LorLukeAlways, DiehardJavaJunkie14, RiskaSG, lilienprinzessin, Aleta II Anon, ejl1, and lazyBranda.


	12. Happy Birthday, Emily

**Chapter 12**

**_Happy Birthday, Emily_**

A tall, thin man dressed in an impeccable dark grey suit wove his way through the elegant restaurant. Rich, deep wood paneling was broken up by large picture windows that looked out on lush gardens. Each table was surrounded with oversized plush armchairs of deep burgundy. Upon reaching his destination, he bowed respectfully. "Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore, I hope all is to your liking."

"Yes, Terrance, a superb meal as always," Richard replied.

"May I bring you anything else? Would you care for dessert or a cheese plate perhaps?" the captain offered.

Richard turned his gaze to his wife across the table from him. "My Dear?"

"I couldn't possibly eat another bite," she answered with a smile then turned to the man standing rigidly beside the table. "Wonderful as always, Terrance."

"I'm so glad. Please allow me to wish you the happiest of birthdays once again, Mrs. Gilmore,"

"Thank you, Terrance," she replied and with another bow the man was gone.

"So tell me My Dear, how have you enjoyed your birthday so far?" Richard asked with a gleam in his eye.

Emily leaned across the table and covered his hand with hers. "I've enjoyed it very much," she said tenderly, her voice low and intimate. "Thank you again for my beautiful gifts."

"There are more surprises to come," he teased as he turned her hand over on the table top and traced the inside of her wrist with the tip of his finger. "I still say you could have worn the bracelet and the earrings to lunch."

"You know that those pieces are much too formal for afternoon," she explained as she studied their hands on the table. Temporarily distracted, it took a moment for his other statement to sink in. "Just what do you have planned? All I know is that you said we were going out. I hope this secret of yours includes dinner since I've given the maid and the cook the night off."

Richard chuckled throatily at her complete lack of suspicion. "Well, I certainly don't plan to starve you, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm glad to hear it." She shifted her gaze away from his incredibly talented hands and looked up at him from under her lashes. "And just what do you have planned?" she flirted.

"I know how much you love the theatre," he replied.

"Yes…"

"I have secured us tickets to a very important opening tonight, so …" he gazed down at his watch then back at her, "I believe we had better be going. I want to be sure that you have ample opportunity to select a gown to wear with your new jewelry."

"Oh, you," Emily giggled and playfully pulled her hand away from his.

Richard rose then stepped around the table to pull her chair out for her.

"I don't know of any shows opening tonight," she remarked as she stood. "What is it?"

Taking her hand in his, he placed it on his arm as they walked through the restaurant. "Well you have been very busy, My Dear. Perhaps this one has just slipped by you, in which case it will be a surprise."

* * *

"Mom…" Rory called out, opening the front door. Pushing it open, she bent down to pick up her travel bag and dropped it inside by the door. "Mom…" she called again, getting no response. As she stopped in the small foyer, she heard what sounded like laughter and voices. Following the sounds around the living room into the kitchen, she found her mother.

Realizing who was sitting with her mother when the blondish woman turned around, Rory gasped. "Aunt Hope!"

"Rory!" Lorelai and Hope both exclaimed as Rory rushed to hug her aunt. Hope rose from her seat just as Rory's arms circled around her. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Does Grandma know you're here?"

"Oh my, look at you," Hope exclaimed, pulling back, yet holding onto Rory's hands as she looked her over. "The last time I saw you … you were just becoming a woman. Now, you're positively divine," she insisted.

"I don't know about that," Rory blushed, looking away shyly.

"She's divine, isn't she, Lorelai?" Hope asked, letting go of Rory as Lorelai stepped closer.

"I think so, but I'm pretty biased." Hugging her daughter tightly, Lorelai let the embrace linger. It had been quite a while since she'd been able to physically touch her daughter. And now that she was reminded of how great it was, she didn't want to let go.

"Uh… Mom…" Rory prodded. "I probably need to breathe sometime within the next thirty seconds…"

"Your Aunt Hope knows CPR. Just give me a minute here," Lorelai returned, still hugging Rory to her.

"CPR is for when the heart stops, Mom…" Rory smiled as Lorelai finally let go of her and stepped back. "I can't believe you're here!" she repeated, looking to Hope.

"It's a surprise for your grandmother," Hope explained.

"She doesn't know?" Rory's eyes got bigger. "She's going to flip."

Hope only smiled, the sparkle in her eyes saying all that needed to be said.

"You should have seen those two together when Grandma and I were in Paris. We went to this vineyard that is owned by one of Aunt Hope's neighbors. I don't think either of them stopped laughing for hours," Rory informed her mother. "I still say Grandma was more than just tipsy," she added turning to Hope.

"I know I was," she admitted with a laugh.

"Mom had too much to drink?" Lorelai asked, shaking her head and laughing.

"I can talk your mother into many things," Hope smiled.

"I hope that you use your powers for evil," Lorelai smiled, a dozen ideas forming in her mind for things the three of them could do together.

"Rory, your grandmother tells me that you've been very busy lately. I've been reading some of your articles. I can't follow American politics to save my life but it sounds fascinating," Hope stated.

"Yeah, we're really busy but I like it. I'm learning so much. And the experience is really great," Rory nodded. "I really hope that his campaign goes far so that I can stay on the road with him through November."

"With you writing those articles, he'll be our new president in no time," Lorelai grinned.

"I don't think I have anything to do with that," Rory laughed.

"You must be tired. You grandfather said you had a fundraiser in upstate New York this morning," Hope commented.

"Yes, let's get you unpacked," Lorelai suggested.

"Oh, I just brought one bag. But I would love a shower!" Rory admitted.

"Well, kiddo, you're in luck. I just so happen to have a bathroom equipped with one."

* * *

"Mom, do you have any panty hose?" Rory asked, walking into the bathroom where her mother was standing before the mirror, applying eye liner.

"You're going to wear panty hose?" she laughed.

"What is wrong with that?" Rory replied defensively.

"You're not eighty years old."

"Women under eighty wear panty hose," Rory insisted.

"Then find me one and get back to me on that," Lorelai teased.

"Do you have any or not?" she asked.

"Bottom drawer in the closet," Lorelai informed her.

"Thank you," Rory smiled, walking toward her mother's closet.

After Rory left the room, Lorelai dropped the eyeliner back into her make-up bag and reached for the hanger on the back of the bathroom door. Shimmying into her sapphire-blue silk gown, she slid her arm into the single shoulder dress. She zipped up the side and ran her hands over the ruched waist. Holding her breath, she turned and examined the dress from the side. The silk fabric hung loosely from her waist and stopped just below the knee, the lining giving the dress just enough pouf to look full-bodied yet elegant. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at dainty silver watch on her wrist. They had about twenty minutes to get to the Inn and start getting things in order. Richard had told her yesterday that he planned a seven o'clock arrival for Emily.

"You guys ready?" she called out, slipping into her tan-colored heels.

"Almost," Rory called back from the bedroom.

Lorelai flipped off the light and stepped out to find Rory struggling to get the back closure on her dress hooked.

"Can you help me?" she asked.

Walking over to her daughter, Lorelai hooked it in place and stepped back. "You look lovely," she smiled.

"Thanks," Rory smiled, looking down at the dress. It wasn't exactly her usual style, given that it was from her mother's closet. However, it was fit for the purpose. The dress was made of silky chiffon with a rounded neckline of clear and silver-tone beads. It had a keyhole bodice, ruched waist, and a full skirt and looked like it could have come straight from a 'pretty in pink' advertisement.

Following Rory down the stairs, they met Hope just as she stepped into the living room. "Wow," Hope gasped. "You both look stunning."

"Us?" Lorelai scoffed. "Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Why? What's wrong?" Hope asked, looking down at her gown. Tiny fabric-covered buttons closed the Mandarin-collared jacket. Underneath, the elegant, floor-length skirt showed off her slim form and the rich burgundy wine color of the gown was the perfect complement to her blondish hair that was pulled back in a neat bun, held in place by a thin headband. "I don't know why I suddenly feel a bit nervous. Your mother was always the most impeccable dresser in the family. We used to go to parties and no one even bothered to look at me. They were all staring at her."

"Nothing is wrong," Lorelai corrected. "You look amazing."

"You think so?" Hope asked. "This was the first gown I saw. It fit, so I took it."

"Are you sure that you are related to my mother?" Lorelai asked.

Hope laughed. "You know I am not a fan of clothes shopping," Hope reminded her. "Don't you remember that day I spent nine hours shopping in Paris with your mother so that you could go off with … what was his name? Jean-Luc?"

Lorelai laughed, the memory bringing smile to her face. "Jean-Pierre," she remembered. "He was so hot," she sighed.

"Mom had a hot French boyfriend?" Rory piped up.

"He wasn't my boyfriend," Lorelai corrected.

"He was the son of one of my neighbors. He offered to show Lorelai around Paris. But Emily wanted her to go to some art gallery with us." With a mischievous grin Hope added, "You still owe me by the way."

"So, how did you get Grandma to let you go?" Rory asked.

"She didn't. I kept your grandmother out all day long so that she could spend the day with him. And Gerard took Richard to some vineyard and by the time we all got home, Lorelai looked like she'd spent all day in the house, doing her homework."

"Grandma and Grandpa actually bought that you spent all day reading … in Paris?"

Lorelai shrugged. "I was like thirteen. I hadn't met your father yet and turned completely wild and unruly." The memory made her laugh once again. "We should get going. Dad will kill me if Mom is there before we are."

"We've got like two hours before Grandma will arrive," Rory argued.

"We might run into traffic," Lorelai explained.

"Ok, it's official. You've been spending way too much time around Grandma."

* * *

Richard was a bundle of nervous energy. After arriving home from their late lunch, he had used work as an excuse to retreat to his study for fear of giving anything away. He'd gone upstairs to shower and dress about an hour ago, careful to avoid Emily as much as possible. Luckily she was focused on fixing her hair and make-up and didn't seem to notice. Finally he left the room about twenty minutes ago and was now prowling aimlessly around the first floor and watching the clock. He planned to go back upstairs at exactly five after six. They would need to leave at precisely six twenty-two since he'd told Lorelai they would arrive at the Dragonfly at exactly seven o'clock.

It felt like he'd spent more time in the last twenty four hours watching the clock than he had since the night Emily went into labor with Lorelai. Finally the hands of the large grandfather clock moved the last tick to land on the Roman numeral I and he headed for the stairs.

When he reached their bedroom, Emily was just walking out of the dressing room, both hands to her ear as she secured one diamond stud in place. She took his breath away. The midnight blue of her dress was the perfect backdrop to the diamond bracelet and earrings he'd given her early this morning. It was cut to her shape perfectly, the bodice modestly following her curves and the skirt flared out slightly over her hips and down to the floor. Her shoulders and arms were covered, but deliciously revealed by a sheer fabric in the same shade. Her hair was softly pulled back on the sides in order to reveal the square cut diamonds sparkling on her ears.

Finally regaining his voice, he swept her with another long look from head to toe and back again. "Emily, you are a vision."

She briefly looked away from him, a beautiful blush rising in her cheeks. "Thank you." She quickly recovered and gave him the same appraising look he'd given her. His black tuxedo was set off with a navy blue silk vest, matching tie and pocket square. It went perfectly with her dress; he must have noticed what she had laid out to wear before dressing. "You look very dashing yourself. Think you could help me with this last button?" she asked turning away from him.

"Of course," he replied and quickly closed the distance between them. When he reached her, she held up the back of her hair with one hand and he took the opportunity to kiss just below her ear. Ignoring the button for the moment, he placed his hands on her hips and murmured softly. "Perhaps we should forget the theatre and stay home tonight instead."

Leaning back against him for a moment, Emily enjoyed the feel of his warm kisses as they traveled down her neck. Then she used her free hands to gently lift his away from her. "Not tonight. I want to see what this mystery play is that you're taking me to. Is it a musical?"

Reluctantly he stepped back from her and lifted his hands to the button that closed the top of her dress. "Yes, I believe it is. Now, my beautiful birthday girl. We need to be going."

She let go of her hair and turned to face him as she gestured to the door. "Then let's go."

Richard smiled and picked up the small matching clutch that she'd left lying on the bed and handed it to her as they walked out of the room.

* * *

At the Inn, Lorelai was swamped with the last minute details. Standing in the doorway between the sitting area and the dining room, she looked over her checklist. Everything seemed in order, but she was determined that there would not be a single hitch tonight. She glanced across the room to where Rory and Hope were talking to the young men setting up one of the bar stations and smiled, then called Rory over. Hope came with her. "Rory, will you go make sure the cake was picked up from Sookie's and ask Chef Andy if everything's on schedule?"

"You know, I've never met this Chef Andy. Isn't he going to resent someone he doesn't even know checking up on him?" she asked meekly.

"Nah, he's a great guy. Tell him who you are. He'll be fine with it." Lorelai turned her daughter around by the shoulders and gave her a gentle push in the direction of the kitchen.

"Anything you'd like me to do?" Hope offered.

"Actually, if you don't mind, would you see if everything looks okay in the dining room? You know Mom and how she likes things," Lorelai said with a smile. "Make sure the candle sticks are all the same distance from the centerpieces and stuff like that. She'd spot it in a second if anything were out of place."

"I still can't believe you actually got her to make all the plans for her own party and she doesn't even know it. You know she's going to kill you later," Hope laughed.

"I'm counting on you to find me a safe house in France," Lorelai replied.

"Done." Hope smiled at Lorelai then began her walk through of the dining room, admiring not for the first time her sister's ability to devise an elegant and sophisticated theme for the room. The iris centerpieces were particularly lovely, the perfect complement to the deep blue linens and sparkling crystal in the candlesticks and other glass pieces.

Lorelai herself went outside now that it was dark to make sure the new lighting scheme they'd had installed earlier in the week was working properly. Another of her mother's ideas that was simply perfect, she mused with a shake of her head. Outdoor lighting had been installed to illuminate all the trees and some of the flowering bushes from below. All the pathways were lined with small lantern style lights on iron hooks that went into the ground. It gave the landscaping a stately feel for evening functions like these. Even the barn had gotten new carriage lights. Thankful that everything seemed in order outside, she headed back in. The guests would be arriving in about half an hour.

* * *

"Hope?" a male voice asked, placing a hand on her shoulder as she slowly turned around.

"Robert Sutton," she smiled, "I can't believe you still live around here."

"I can't believe you look as wonderful as you do after forty years." Hope laughed politely. "It must be all that fine wine and the wonderful French countryside," he teased.

"How have you been?" she asked. "Emily told me you got married a few years ago."

"Yes," he smiled, "she's a lovely woman. I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Bob glanced around the room, spotting his wife's bright fuchsia-colored, strapless silk dress immediately in the crowd but deciding to remain quiet. "I heard about Gerard. I'm sorry. He seemed like a very nice man."

"He was indeed," Hope nodded, the mention of her late husband still bringing a wave of sadness to her heart even five years later.

"You haven't remarried?" Bob asked.

"No," Hope replied quickly. "I can't imagine remarrying."

"That's what I thought when Minnie and I divorced," he replied. "But then I met Sandy and I just had to marry her."

"I'm glad you're doing so well," she smiled politely. Seeing him reminded her of why they had broken up in high school. Both of their families had been keen on the match, hoping that the two of them would hit it off and perhaps announce an engagement. Yet at that point in her life she hadn't thought she'd ever marry. She had too many plans, too many things to accomplish on her own. But of course that was before she'd met Gerard and her whole outlook on life and men had changed. Once she'd met him nothing else mattered as long as they were together, even if it meant she had to follow him around the world. "Would you excuse me?" she asked, having to quickly walk away. The memories were just too much.

Walking to back of the ballroom, she slipped into the small area between the kitchen and the banquet hall. Her hand grasped the edge of her silken jacket and she took a deep breath.

"Aunt Hope …" came Rory's voice. She turned around and quickly composed herself, smiling at her great-niece. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes," Hope insisted. "I was just getting a little worried that we were running out of time. It is about ten minutes until seven o'clock. And your grandfather told me a dozen times that he would be here with your grandmother at exactly seven," she covered.

"Yeah, he said that to me a couple times, too," Rory laughed. "I figure we can hang out back here for now."

"That sounds like a good plan," Hope agreed.

"Yeah, and while we're waiting, you can tell me about your trip to Sudan last April. I'm thinking that maybe once this politics stuff is over, I'd like to do some international reporting. You know, work somewhere that people seem to have forgotten about."

"I think that is a wonderful idea, Rory. In fact, I have quite a few connections. I'd love to introduce you to some people."

"That would be great," Rory smiled.

"Yes. We'll have to get together after the elections, once you've figured out what you want to do next." They were both silent for a moment. "I just can't get over you being an adult, Rory. I still remember the first time Gerard and I met you. You were just this tiny little baby. Then we didn't see you again for seventeen years. I just … it's hard to believe how fast time has gone by. Your grandmother talks about you so much that I guess I just assume you are still the fifteen year old little girl she would talk about coming to dinner on Friday nights."

"Grandma told you about the dinners?" Rory asked.

"Of course she did. That was all she talked about. Every Saturday afternoon I would get a full report. She was so worried when you were graduating from high school that she wouldn't get to see you anymore. Even now that you are on the road and away from home, she stills talks endlessly about how bright you are and how wonderfully you're doing. She's very fond of you."

"I'm pretty fond of her, too," Rory agreed. "I just …" Rory hesitated for a moment but decided to continue, "has she talked about how things are going with her and Mom? Before I left, I tried to, you know, kinda do things that got them to bond and spend more time together. I didn't want them to drift apart without me here. And now that they're working together … "

"Your grandmother seems to be very happy," Hope informed her. "I can't speak for your mother but Emily honestly seems happier than she's been in a very long time."

"I'm glad," Rory smiled. "I was worried about them."

"Me too," Hope agreed. "Those two have always been so different that they never paid attention to how alike they actually are."

"You see it too?" Rory asked. Hope nodded. "I just … I hate that all of this is over me."

"Rory," Hope's voice grew more forceful, "you are most certainly not the cause of their problems."

"I just … I want them to be okay, you know?" Rory sighed.

"I do. I think they-"

At that moment, Lorelai stuck her head around a corner, announcing, "We've had a sighting."

"I wish we could see her face when she sees all of this," Hope sighed.

"Me too," Rory agreed wistfully.

"Well, if the two of you lived here, you would be regular guests and not surprises who have to hide in the kitchen," Lorelai reminded them before rushing off. "Now go!" she hissed back over her shoulder, shooing them toward the kitchen.

* * *

"It still seems silly to have to stop here," Emily remarked as Richard turned the silver Mercedes onto the private drive of the Dragonfly Inn.

"I already explained," he replied, hoping she wasn't growing suspicious now that the moment was finally here. "Lorelai was the one who secured the tickets for tonight and she didn't have a chance to bring them to me at the office."

"But why couldn't she have just given them to me yesterday?" she asked as the car came to a stop. The Inn was buzzing with the activity from the party. A valet opened Richard's door and he exited the car. "We just have to pick something up," he winked at the young man, "we won't be staying long."

The valet gave Richard an answering wink and nod, indicating that he knew who they were.

Richard then walked around to Emily's door and opened it, offering her his hand.

"We're just getting the tickets and we're leaving," Emily instructed as they climbed the stairs to the front door. "You are not to bother Lorelai with a bunch of needless small talk. She's very busy. We have an important party going on tonight."

Richard bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Thank goodness she wasn't looking directly at him. He managed a quick reply before reaching the door. "Yes, My Dear." He opened the door and Emily preceded him through the whole room, falling silent as they entered.

She looked around for her daughter and was surprised to see so many faces that she recognized. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Lorelai stepped into her mother's line of sight and smiled brightly. "Happy Birthday, Mom."

Richard watched as his wife opened her mouth to speak, her eyes ever widening as she saw more and more faces of her friends.

Several of them greeted her brightly, "Happy birthday, Emily." "Yes, Emily darling, happy birthday." "Happy Birthday."

"Natalie, Sylvia, Jean," Emily said quietly, the pieces starting to form a picture in her mind. She turned to her husband, "What have you done?"

Richard grinned from ear to ear. They'd actually accomplished it. She was in complete and total shock. He'd never seen her in such a state before and it was adorable. "Happy birthday, My Dear."

Emily turned to look at Lorelai who was smirking at her.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer," Lorelai said in a rush before breaking into laughter.

"Oh…my…God," Emily's hand flew to her mouth as the last of the pieces clicked into place and a bright smile sparkled in her eyes.

* * *

_Thank you to our wonderful reviewers: RiskaSG, gilmorefan, Ann Y. Mous, ejl1, LorLukealways, Lilienprinzessin, DieHardJavaJunkie14, swimmerluver, Addicted to TV!!_


	13. Surprising Emily Gilmore

**Chapter 13**

_**Surprising Emily Gilmore**_

Making her way around the room, Emily was still stunned as the various guests greeted her and wished her a very happy birthday. She couldn't believe that Lorelai and Richard had pulled this off. She had suspected nothing. Lorelai had been acting odd recently but that was to be expected. She'd never imagined it was because Lorelai was tricking her into planning her own birthday party.

"You've really outdone yourselves on this one," Douglas laughed, one arm around Natalie's waist, the other holding a glass of champagne.

"Yes, Emily, dear, your face was simply priceless," Natalie smiled.

"I just … I can't believe you led me on for so long about that ridiculous woman," Emily spoke to Lorelai, who was standing next to Natalie.

Lorelai just shrugged, spotting Rory as she walked towards them. Emily's back was to her but Richard caught the slight nod his daughter gave him. "I had no idea that this was the other surprise you were referring to earlier," Emily smiled at him.

"There are many things that you don't know," he spoke mysteriously as Emily looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you like a glass of champagne?" Rory asked, stepping next to her grandmother and holding a glass out to her.

"Why thank you, Rory," Emily commented automatically, taking the glass from her. It took a few seconds for her conscious and subconscious minds to collide. As the shock registered across her face, she turned to her granddaughter once again. "Rory!" she exclaimed.

"Hi, Grandma," Rory smiled sheepishly.

"You're here!" Emily grasped her champagne glass firmly as she encircled her granddaughter in her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Of course I'm here. You think I'd miss this party? The word on the campaign trail is that this is the party of the year," she teased.

"Oh Rory," Emily sighed, touching the side of her granddaughter's face.

"Happy Birthday, Grandma."

"I just … I don't know what to say to any of this," Emily stumbled, at a loss for words to describe her elation as she looked at the people before her.

Sliding his arm around her slim form, Richard squeezed her gently, kissing the side of her head. "The fact that you are actually speechless is worth it all."

* * *

Lorelai walked into the kitchen to find her Aunt perched on a stool and deep in conversation with Chef Andy as he worked on a sauce.

Hope looked to Lorelai as she came closer. "Do you know your chef spent time in the Peace Corps?"

"No, I did not," Lorelai replied glancing over the tall, sandy haired man. "Go Chef Andy."

Hope continued, "In fact he was assigned to a school in Cameroon that was funded by your parent's foundation. He made the best grits I've ever tasted."

Lorelai shook her head and smiled. "There is no where you haven't been, is there?"

Hope rose from the stool. "Oh there are a few places. So is it finally time for me to see my sister?"

"Yep, you're on deck," Lorelai replied as they walked through the door.

Lorelai paused at the end of the hallway under the stairs and motioned for Hope to stay there. Then she stepped into the next room and scanned the crowd for her mother. Spotting her in the middle of the room, she shot her father a piercing look. Emily needed to turn around or she'd see Hope before they wanted her to.

Richard glanced around him for a moment then saw Claude and Monique Clemenceau behind him. "Emily, look who's here," he said gesturing in their direction.

Emily smiled to her friend. "We'll talk more later, Jean." Then she turned around with Richard and greeted the Clemenceaus.

Once Emily's back was to them, Lorelai steered Hope into the main room and positioned her directly behind Emily.

In a loud, clear voice Hope remarked, "Emily, still one hot number. Is this what I have to look forward to in a few years?"

Emily stopped midsentence as her brain quickly placed the voice behind her. No, it couldn't be, she reasoned as she quickly turned around. As soon as she saw who it was, her eyes began to sting with tears. "Hopie!" she cried wrapping the shorter woman in her arms and hugged her tightly.

Hope hugged her back with a bright smile.

Emily blinked several times to hold back the tears glistening in her eyes.

Rory and Luke had moved to stand on either side of Lorelai who wrapped one arm around her daughter's waist, her other hand resting on Luke's shoulder. Both women wore identical grins as they watched the two sisters embrace. Richard was grinning too. He could finally relax. His carefully orchestrated plans had come to fruition. All that was left was to enjoy the party with his wife.

Finally stepping back just enough to look at her sister's face Emily kept both hands firmly on her shoulders. "Hope, it's so good to see you."

"We really got you didn't we?" Hope asked, her eyes gleaming.

"You certainly did." Glancing around at her family she addressed them all, "So you all were in on this together?"

"It was all Dad's idea," Lorelai explained.

"Yeah, he arranged to fly me in for the party about a month ago," Rory chimed in.

"Me too," Hope added.

Shaking her head, Emily released her sister and stepped closer to her husband. Without any regard to the many people that surrounded them, she reached up and took his face in her hands guiding it down to hers and planting a kiss on his lips. She then looked lovingly into his eyes. "Thank you."

Richard brought one had up to rest on her waist. "You are very welcome."

* * *

"I still can't believe you did all of this," Emily gushed, looking around the room as Richard guided them skillfully around the dance floor to the light melodies of Beethoven. The evening was nearly over and dessert was being cleared from the tables. The orchestra had disbanded and a sole pianist was now filling the room with elegant soliloquies.

"I simply had the idea. It was all Lorelai," he repeated. "Well, you and Lorelai. She is apparently a master manipulator, our daughter," he grinned, looking down at her. The look in her eyes was unmistakable. She was happy, elated. His hand rested against the small of her back and he pulled her closer, his other hand holding hers tightly as she laid her head against his shoulder. "The look on your face when you realized that Hope was standing behind you made all of it worth it."

Emily felt the smile tugging at her face, the thought of her sister being in town causing her a wave of immeasurable happiness. "Now I know why she didn't answer the phone when I tried to call her yesterday," she concluded.

"And why you heard female voices in the background when you called me last night," he reminded her.

Emily lifted her head, pulling back to look up at him. "You were with Lorelai and Hope?" Richard nodded. "Now we know where our daughter gets her manipulative abilities from," she teased.

"Oh no, my dear, that's all from you," Richard insisted.

* * *

Lorelai looked around the room, making sure that everything was in order. It actually seemed as if there was nothing she needed to do at this moment.

"Would you care to dance?" came a familiar voice from behind.

"Michel," Lorelai gasped, turning around. "What are you doing here?"

"I left the concert early so that I could make it back in time to wish your mother a Happy Birthday," he explained.

"You left Celine Dion for my mother?" Lorelai smiled. "That's so sweet. Does she know you're here?"

"Celine?" he asked.

"No, my mother," Lorelai sighed in amusement.

"Oh, no. She is dancing with your father. I didn't want to interrupt," he explained. "Care to join me?" he asked, motioning toward the dance floor as he held his arm out to her.

Taking it, Lorelai smiled brightly and followed him out a few feet.

* * *

Rory sat in a chair at an empty table, watching the people around the room. She knew nearly everyone here, which surprised her. Spotting a bright fuchsia gown passing a few feet in front of her, she smiled as Bob Sutton walked past her and nodded politely. Ah, so that was the Barbie doll wife that her grandmother had mentioned. Rory smiled slightly, remembering the Friday night dinner from just a few years ago. Things felt so different now than they had when she'd left. She had been worried about Emily and Lorelai, worried that they'd never see each other. Oh, how things had changed. Not only did they see each other nearly every day but they also seemed to enjoy it.

She looked out at her grandparents dancing, chatting casually as they swayed perfectly to the music.

"I'm not a spaz on the dance floor, you know…"

Rory shook herself from her thoughts, looking up at Luke who was standing next to her.

"What?" she asked.

"Your mother claims I'm a spaz on the dance floor," he clarified.

"That's because she needs someone to blame when she falls down," Rory joked.

"You want to…?" Luke held out his hand, nodding with his head to where everyone was gathered.

"I'd love to," Rory smiled, taking his hand as he helped her up from her seat.

* * *

Leaning against the doorway where she had been hidden before the party, Hope searched the crowd for her sister. Finding her in the center of the room dancing with her husband, she smiled. Emily had definitely been surprised. That one moment had made the whole trip worth it, seeing her sister's face, holding her in her arms, the tears in her eyes. She hadn't realized just how much she'd missed her until she saw her. It was different when Emily and Richard would come visit her in France or somewhere else around the world. Yet here at home in Connecticut, it just felt different. She'd forgotten how at ease she felt here, the pressures of her role and standing not quite as strong. Not that she didn't love all of the work she did and the traveling that came with it. Yet now that Gerard was gone and their friends were retiring and moving away, it felt lonelier than it ever had before.

"If you can overlook the smell of chocolate and whipped cream radiating from my clothing, I'd be delighted if you'd indulge me with a dance…"

Hope turned around, smiling at the sight of Andy behind her. "How can I resist a man who radiates chocolate?" she teased, her eyes sparkling.

Andy felt an odd flutter in his stomach as she looked at him, casting it aside as she linked her arm around his and accompanied him to the dance floor.

* * *

Scanning the room Lorelai noticed that her mother was sitting alone at their table near the dance floor, a rare occurrence tonight. Taking the seat next to her, Lorelai reached for a cup and poured herself some coffee from the silver pot on the table. "More coffee?" she asked.

"Yes thank you," Emily replied shifting her gaze from watching her sister and husband dancing to her daughter.

Lorelai poured. "So, enjoying your birthday party, Mom?"

Emily smiled at her daughter. "Yes, very much."

Lorelai laughed. "You would not believe how many times you almost caught me. As a matter of fact, you did on several occasions."

Emily thought for a moment then laughed herself. "In the stables with the horse?"

Lorelai nodded still laughing. "Darn good thing animals like me so much. I could have been trampled. And then you tried to book another party for tonight. I thought for sure the jig was up then and there when I had to invent Mrs. Fritzen-Heimer."

"Oh that name, how did I not know that name was a fake?" Emily shook her head.

"I don't know. I'm just glad it worked," Lorelai answered.

"It's just as ridiculous as all those names you used to give your dolls when you were five. What were they again? Miss Fussbudget?"

"Ahh, Mrs. Fussbudget, please," Lorelai corrected laughing. "Miss Flibbertigibbet, Miss Whoseits, Mrs. Dunklefritz, and Ms. Cadywompus, my tea party club."

Emily smiled indulgently at her daughter, her memory filling in the picture of the curly haired little girl holding tea parties in the sunroom. "And then you maneuvered me into making all the plans for this ..." she gestured around her.

"A stroke of genius if I do say so myself," Lorelai said proudly.

"You do know what they say about payback, Lorelai?" Emily questioned, a menacing eyebrow raised and her eyes glittering.

Lorelai cringed and reached for her coffee cup.

* * *

Luke shifted his weight uneasily as Richard walked towards him. Putting on a polite smile, he unconsciously reached up to make sure his tie was straight.

"I hope you're having a good time," Richard smiled, extending his hand out to Luke.

"Yes, sir, I am," Luke answered, nodding his head as Richard stopped beside him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me 'sir'?" Richard chuckled. "You are less than two months away from being a member of this family. Call me Richard, please," he insisted for what felt like the millionth time.

"Sorry," Luke laughed a bit uneasily. "My mother was very strict on manners and old habits just die hard. I'll work on it," he promised.

"Good," Richard smiled.

They stood side-by-side for a few moments, a bit of an awkward silence between them as they watched the guests mingling.

"This is a really great party," Luke stated. "Emily looks very happy."

"Yes, she does," Richard agreed, his smile widening at the mention of her. "I think she was completely taken by surprised."

"It would seem so," Luke nodded. "She definitely wasn't expecting her sister to show up."

"Yes, I'm very happy I could arrange for Hope to visit. She and Emily always have such a wonderful time together."

"She's definitely something else," Luke noted.

"Hope?" Richard asked. Luke nodded. "That she is. The work she's done in her lifetime is quite amazing. And she's actually one of those rare people who does it for no recognition but just out of the goodness of her heart and because she truly enjoys it. You should try and spend some time with her … that is if you can pry her away from my wife," he noted in a playful tone.

"Yeah, she was telling me a little bit about some of the stuff she did in South Africa during apartheid. And then some demonstration or something she participated in in Somalia."

"She has lived a very unique life. She and Emily are very different in so many respects. Yet when they are together, you get the impression that they've never even spent a day apart." Richard watched his wife and her sister across the room, Hope's arm around Emily's waist as she told some sort of story. Emily laughed, her eyes crinkling beautifully. "She needs someone. Someone who will go shopping with her and do all the things that a husband isn't any good for," he joked.

"That's what I've got Sookie for," Luke agreed. "The fact that there is another human being out there who can handle Lorelai and talk her down from a ledge makes my life a lot easier sometimes."

"She gets it from her mother, you know…"

"Gets what?" Luke asked.

"The quick wit and the dramatic flair," Richard informed him.

"I'd assumed that," Luke laughed.

"I hear the wedding plans are going smoothly," Richard commented, spotting Lorelai as she walked to where her mother, aunt, and daughter were gathered together.

"Yeah, I think so. I really just let Lorelai do whatever it is that she wants," he shrugged.

"The fact that you have learned that lesson before getting married is going to make your life much easier, son," Richard smiled. "Much easier."

* * *

_Thanks to Ann Y. Mous, RiskaSG, DiehardJavaJunkie14, LorLukeAlways, lillienprinzessin, Morzsa, swimmerluver, Addicted to TV, tannamom, and Gilmorefan for the reviews! We're very glad you guys are enjoying the story!_


	14. Hot Chocolate and New Beginnings

_Our journey has once again come to an end with our final chapter of story 3, 'Husbands and Other Partners.' We appreciate all the kind reviews and hope that you have enjoyed the story as much as we have enjoyed writing it. The next installment is in progress but we don't have a set date for when it will be ready. Thank you in advance for your patience._

* * *

** Chapter 14**

**_Hot Chocolate and New Beginnings_**

Lorelai bounded down the steps in her lime green pajama bottoms and the matching green, blue, and pink striped top. As she walked towards the kitchen, the yellow star on her behind shimmered with the light. Turning to Rory's room where Hope was changing, she knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Hope called back, walking over to open the door.

"You want some hot chocolate?" Lorelai asked, standing in the doorway. "Rory and I are going to have a mug before bed."

"Sure," Hope smiled. "That would be lovely. I'm not really tired yet."

"Neither am I," Lorelai agreed.

At that moment, Rory came around the corner. Her Obama t-shirt and over-sized brown sweatpants caused Lorelai and Hope to laugh.

"Don't you look cute," Hope commented.

Rory looked down with a shrug. "They give this stuff out to us when it is left over. It was the only size they had."

"Maybe you should leave them for Luke when you go," Lorelai suggested. "I don't think they really fit you, Sweetheart."

"Does Luke even vote?" she asked.

Lorelai shrugged, "I don't know."

"Where's the hot chocolate?" Rory asked.

"In the box," she responded quickly, following Rory into the kitchen. Hope strolled in behind them and took a seat at the small kitchen table.

"Your house is very quaint," Hope commented, looking around. "It reminds me of the first home that Gerard and I lived in when we were in Granada just after we were married."

"You have such a cool life," Rory gushed, opening a cabinet. "Wow, Mom, there's food in here!"

"Luke brings stuff over sometimes. I think the hot chocolate mix is in the next cabinet maybe," she offered as Rory moved to open the cabinet and found the box.

"Sorry we don't have anything fancier," Lorelai apologized, setting a mug down in front of Hope and turning back to the stove. Picking up the teapot, she moved to the sink to fill it with water.

"I'm sure I'll have a whole week of fancy once I get to your mother's house," she smiled. Patting the mug, she reassured, "This is fine."

"So, you and Mom are going to paint the town red, huh?" Lorelai asked, placing the kettle on the stove and turning it on.

"I don't have anything in particular planned. I would like to visit a few places, though."

"Like what?" Rory asked, sliding into a chair at the table, putting the box down in front of her in order to open it up.

"There was a park that your Grandmother and I used to visit frequently when we were little girls. I don't even know if it's still there or if I remember how to get to it, but it would be nice to try and find it."

"I'm sure Grandma remembers," Rory added. "She remembers everything."

"That's very true," Hope laughed.

"Tell us something about Grandma. What she was like when she was growing up?" Rory prodded.

Hope sighed. "I don't really know where to start."

"Did you guys always get along?" she asked.

"Mostly, yes. We were three years apart in school but we spent all of our time together at home. I think I just followed your Grandmother around so much that she finally accepted that I wasn't going anywhere and learned to like me," Hope smiled.

"Did you like Grandpa when they started dating?"

"It was a while before I actually met your Grandfather. Emily kept him pretty much to herself, but I certainly heard about him. It was Richard Gilmore this and Richard Gilmore that every time we were both home from school." Hope paused as she remembered, a smile on her face, then she laughed. "Oh, she'd get so angry with him, too. That's how I knew she was serious. She'd never cared enough about anyone else to get so angry with them."

Lorelai laughed too, "They have got the arguing down to an art form."

Hope nodded. "Personally I think they just do it so they can make up later. They even got into an argument the first time they met, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Well I didn't," Rory chimed in. "I bet it's a good story."

"It is, and it's one your grandparents should tell you," Hope replied with an enigmatic grin.

At that moment, the teapot started to hum and Lorelai stood up as the humming grew louder and louder until she took it off the burner.

Hope burst into amused giggles, "You have a tea kettle that plays music?"

"It doesn't just play music," Rory explained seriously, "it sings. You should have seen the picture on the box. I think that's why Mom bought it. She thought it was going to have a little face on the lid that sang."

Flipping the dial to the off position, Lorelai slid back into her seat. "It does have a face, look," she held the kettle up for them to see the little holes in the spout lid that looked like a smiley face, then she flipped it back and poured the boiling water into the three mugs as Rory passed around the packets of hot chocolate mix.

"Spoons!" Rory remembered, getting up to retrieve them from a drawer, which she found to be empty.

"Other side," Lorelai corrected her. "Luke likes them on the left," she explained.

Taking the spoon Rory held out to her, Lorelai stirred the mixture into her cup and waited for it to cool down. Looking at her aunt as she prepared her hot chocolate, she smiled. "I saw you and Andy dancing," Lorelai prompted her.

"Yes," Hope smiled wistfully, placing her spoon on the table. "He's a very nice man."

"He is indeed," Lorelai agreed, lifting the mug to her lips. "It's not often that he gets out of the kitchen."

"Well, I'm sure he noticed how pathetic I looked standing there all alone and was just trying to be a gentleman," she reasoned, shrugging it off, though the idea of him lingered in her mind.

* * *

"Richard, you are sure you told Jennifer to expect everyone for brunch? I'm not going to get up tomorrow morning and see a blank look and an empty refrigerator, am I?" Emily asked as they walked through the front door and into the darkened foyer. Only small lamps scattered around the house kept it from being pitch black.

"Trust me, my Dear. Everything went according to plan for your party. Brunch will be in order as well," he replied helping her off with her coat.

Emily took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry," she apologized as he hung her coat on the hall tree and removed his own, hanging it next to hers. "I guess I'm just excited about Hope and Rory being here. I still can't get over you planning that whole party and flying them in to surprise me."

"It is a shame Rory has to fly back tomorrow afternoon," Richard remarked, placing his arm across her shoulders and guiding her towards the stairs.

"Yes, it is," Emily agreed. Together they climbed the stairs.

"Lorelai and Hope seem to be having a good time together," Richard observed.

Emily laughed lightly. "Well that's either very good or very bad."

"I should hope the former," Richard replied with a chuckle.

Emily entered the bedroom first, flipping on the light as she passed through the door.

Richard followed calling out to her, "Emily."

She paused in the doorway to the dressing room and turned back to him.

Slowly he approached her. "I am sorry I've been so selfish these last few weeks when I should have been supportive and proud of you. You and Lorelai have become quite a team and I know how important that is to you."

"Thank you, I appreciate you saying that." She took a step closer to him and brought her hand up to the middle of his chest, looking up at him, "though I never intended to make you feel like you weren't very important to me too."

Richard wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on the small of her back. "That's good to hear."

Extending her finger, she drew it up his chest then to the side of his neck and up to his face where she cupped his cheek in her hand. "I have been doing some thinking though and I have decided to free up some time in my schedule, resign from a few committees, perhaps cut back on my involvement in others. Any ideas what I'll do to fill the time?"

Richard's eyes sparkled as he pulled her body closer. "I have a feeling I can come up with a few. I wouldn't want you getting bored now."

"Oh no," Emily answered, her voice low and throaty. "That would definitely be a bad thing. Care to give me a hint what these ideas of yours might be?"

"Oh, I think that can be arranged," he brought one hand up to her face and covered her lips with his in a brief, tender kiss, followed immediately by a much more passionate one.

* * *

_Thank you to all of those who have reviewed this story and given us much-appreciated feedback. We truly appreciate it and hope that you all will continue to enjoy the series!  
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